There are restaurants that serve barbecue, followed by establishments. Butter’s BBQ had subtly transformed into the latter in Sinton, Texas, which has a population of 6,000 and is located about twenty miles north of Corpus Christi. When it was listed as one of Texas Monthly’s Top 50 BBQ Joints in 2025, it attracted the kind of devoted patronage that made people choose to eat there over simpler options. The attraction was brisket. Every time, it was brisket.
Thus, there was an instant response when owner and pitmaster Andrew Soto shared a brief message on Facebook last Sunday. “Not a post I’d ever thought I had to make, guys.” He dismantled something that fans thought was fixed in a single sentence. Butter’s BBQ would no longer regularly serve brisket, the cut that best represents Texas barbecue.
Soto had not chosen in a hurry. He had been considering it for months, observing how wholesale prices were rising in a way that seemed to be intended to destroy small businesses. His supplier then called last week with yet another raise. The calculations drove brisket’s retail price above $50 per pound. He had recently sold for $37. In a town where every dollar counts, he was unwilling to put his clients through such a large jump. “That was the final straw that broke the camel’s back,” he replied. “I’m not charging that.”
It is worthwhile to consider the numbers that underlie the decision. He was spending more than 70% of his grocery budget on brisket. Last weekend’s sales were 60% lower than the previous year; this is a collapse rather than a decline. Butter’s is headed toward a record-low year. Prices continued to rise despite this. Absorbing a loss eventually becomes something else entirely and ceases to be a business strategy.
To be honest, the removal itself is not as fascinating as what Soto did next. Instead of following the conventional strategy of discreetly raising prices or reducing portions in ways that consumers might not notice right away, he went public, clarified everything, and rebuilt around the restriction. Brisket will still be available by preorder with a two-pound minimum; it won’t completely disappear.
In a blind taste test, Soto claims that the everyday anchor is now beef cheek, which is almost identical to fatty brisket. New sides: burned ends of pork belly, chicken halves. A true menu makeover, not a retreat.
Even if the flavor holds up, it’s still unclear if Texas BBQ patrons will emotionally accept the replacement. Beyond its flavor, brisket is a sign of a Texas smokehouse’s seriousness and what sets the devoted pitmasters apart from the others. Butter’s is the first restaurant on Texas Monthly’s list to completely abandon brisket, according to Daniel Vaughn, the barbecue editor. That’s a big difference.
The more difficult aspect of this tale is that Butter’s predicament is not unique. In recent weeks, a number of smoke shops in Texas have closed, including Lenox Bar-B-Q in Houston, Kelly’s Hill Country BBQ in Wimberley, and Fiasco BBQ in Austin. The number of cattle in the United States is close to a 75-year low. For small businesses with narrow profit margins and devoted but price-conscious clientele, drought, production costs, and herd liquidation seem to be coming all at once.
Soto has been remarkably open throughout this. It wasn’t dressed up by him. “We love brisket more than anybody,” he said, “so this hurts us just as much as it does you guys.” Because the economics underlying it are real, it reads as real. Seeing a pitmaster of his caliber make this decision is not an indication of failure, but rather of someone attempting to keep the doors open in circumstances that were designed to keep them closed.
It remains to be seen if beef cheek can fulfill the significance of brisket at Butter’s. However, the willingness to change rather than give up reveals something genuine about the individuals in charge.
