People who enjoy the social and delicious aspect of street food; anyone with a penchant for pulled pork, low n’ slow brisket and handcrafted sustainable food. With all recyclable containers, a marvellous converted horsebox and two of the loveliest ladies you can meet, Inkie’s make everyone feel welcome. Anyone who rides a Harley, drinks a Jack or loves the genuine flavours imparted by various smoked woods.
Deep South pit smoked low ‘n’ slow meats with fucking amazing authentic homemade sauces.
In one word
The back story
I’ll disclose that I do know both Karen and Debs who run this street food venture, but only since we first talked about a review on twitter and have joined in with #cornishfoodhour. Despite not eating meat, I decided to go and taste everything else they did make, which led to a revolutionary back track.
After at least 25 years as a vegetarian, I am now a convert. To happy beef that is.
Growing up in Boscastle, I would try telling Mary Nicholls, the dinner lady, that I didn’t like meat, and she wouldn’t believe me. In 1987 you didn’t get that many kids who were allowed to have their own opinions on food, and particularly make the choice to not eat the best part of a pasty! It was lunacy! So, with my friend John Mugford, who swore that carrots were Crowley’s own shit, we’d stuff the unwanted parts of our school dinners in our pockets and lob them over the fence once we were allowed out to the playground. Sorry Mary. Shit, I mean Mrs. Nicholls, of course.
I stopped eating meat entirely at the age of about 11, I think. Mostly motivated by the fact that I didn’t like its taste, I was also a diehard League Against Cruel Sports fanatic and I just never really missed meat.
The ‘tache was cooking some Shia Le Boeuf the other week for the family, and something about its juicy redness caught my eye. I shrugged it off, enjoying my homemade brie, squash and butter bean wellington, which was washed back with enough red wine to compensate.
But for some reason, as the weeks passed, I kept finding myself salivating over steaks and letting my mind wander. Probably because of all the fuss over Sia and Shia Le Boeuf.
All over the country reports of snow have been falling hard across social media, whereas Cornwall has, for the most part, remained mild and relatively unscathed. Until yesterday.
Weather, which I would describe as biblical if I wasn’t a staunch, hell-raising atheist rippled up the A30, which is the lifeblood of Cornwall; attaching us to the rest of the world. When we found the location of the girls’ horse box, we stepped out into the Baltic night to get some authentic smokey goodness, thinking this fucking better be good.
Essentially, all of the mains are low n’ slow cooked meats. Karen really knows her smoking, and is very particular about the use of rubs on the meat. Knowing I was coming up, the girls had smoked a bit of squash for me. In addition, there was homemade chunky slaw, potato salad and cornbreads, all of which were made using local ingredients wherever possible. However, not being a virtuous person, I decided to try the Boston beans, despite knowing they’d been cooked with meat. Having travelled a fair bit in my twenties, I’ve been in countries where I’ve had to pick meat out of a dish, or not eat, so I decided to lay my own rules aside. I mean, what was I gonna do? Sack myself?
There was a depth of smokey flavour to those beans which warmed me through and through. And then they led to my downfall.
One of the main reasons I’d gone up was to review the sauces. The girls have been thrilled to have recently had a meeting with son of THE TACHE Dick Strawbridge, and owner of the Posh Pasty Co, James Strawbridge. He liked their sauces so much, he’s looking into a collaboration, and asked Inkie’s to partner with him at Cornish festival Port Eliot.
I poured a bit of the Dr. Pepper sauce into my cardboard container, dipping my finger in it to have a sample of its flavour. Which was spicy, fruity and complex, a bit like a smoky version of HP. And the Epic BBQ has such a depth of smokey-ness to it that it began to be a game changer.
At this point the girls were telling me that the sauces have been made to complement the meats, and explained that the meats really brought out the flavour. So, after much innuendo, I decided to have some of the brisket and use it purely as a dipper; just sucking the flavour off.
Again, innuendo aside, once the meat was in my mouth, I just though “fuck it”. Eating some locally sourced and really well cooked meat was hardly jacking up heroin, was it? And it really did bring the flavour out. Like a fruity gravy. Before I knew it, I was munching back beef with animalistic abandon and loved everything about the shredded delicate texture and the smoky flavour.
The fact that NOTHING has tempted me in something like 20 years should speak volumes about the quality of Inkie’s brisket. I’ve never particularly given a shit what people think about me, but having to break the off-the-wagon news to my mini-me 12 year old niece is gonna be so tough; I still haven’t managed it. The sauces, though, were really well put together and have some seriously cool packaging to boot.
The sauces will soon be on sale through the Inkie’s website and selected stockists. To sample some of the best BBQ in Cornwall, currently the box has regular pitches in Bodmin on Wednesday nights and Liskeard on Thursdays, but the couple are also taking their home converted horse box to a few festivals over the summer. If you seem them, it’ll be worth the queue. Trust me.