Evan LeRoy

What we talked about

Barbecue that works for experts and everyone else

LeRoy and Lewis has earned attention from the Michelin Guide, Texas Monthly and diners across Austin. LeRoy says professional recognition brings people through the door, but the harder challenge is making an experience that satisfies serious food enthusiasts and someone who simply saw the restaurant on TikTok.

The baseline is universal: the food has to taste good. Beyond that, LeRoy looks for a controlled surprise—something recognizable alongside something a guest did not expect. That balance keeps the restaurant accessible without giving up the creative edge that defines it.

One foot in old school, one in new school

LeRoy and Lewis calls its approach “new-school barbecue.” The restaurant sources locally, uses butchery as a creative outlet, cooks with direct heat and offset pits, and builds modern dishes from methods rooted in Central Texas meat-market traditions.

That approach can mean beef cheeks instead of the expected brisket plate, kimchi in place of a conventional pickle-and-onion setup, or a familiar barbecue flavor expressed through a different cut. The goal is not novelty for its own sake. Every idea still has to point back to barbecue.

Creativity and restaurant math

A restaurant demands artistic invention and operating discipline at the same time. Meat is expensive, and the menu has to recover value from the full product. What used to be discarded brisket trim can become sausage; rendered fat becomes tallow; beef-cheek trim can feed barbacoa, chili and chorizo.

LeRoy describes the menu as a set of gears. Each cut creates primary and secondary products, and those products need useful destinations. Whole-animal thinking improves the bottom line, reduces waste and gives the kitchen new creative material.

Being good across the whole game

LeRoy resists the idea that excellence means maxing out one narrow skill. In his imaginary barbecue video game, a person with perfect sausage-making stats but weak speed, fire control or brisket work is not the teammate the restaurant needs.

His own value comes from a strong handle on the entire system: meat, fire, service, costs, people and the ability to put each teammate in the right position. As his responsibilities pull him farther from the pit, that breadth matters more.

A human approach to building a team

LeRoy credits the restaurant’s daily execution to the team around him. Keeping talented people starts with understanding what fulfillment looks like for each person—emotionally, professionally and financially—and asking how the restaurant’s goals can work with theirs.

He frames leadership less as issuing commands and more as asking for help around a clear objective. The principle is simple: work with people you respect, meet their needs, make the goal visible and be someone they can stand beside for long, demanding hours.

Why restaurants matter to a city

Destination dining brings visitors who also stay in hotels, buy from retailers and move through the rest of the local economy. LeRoy sees recognition for Texas restaurants as part of a larger exchange between chefs, tourism organizations and the communities that support them.

Austin’s advantage, in his view, is a concentration of people who care deeply about what they do. The city keeps looking and pushing forward. Great restaurants are one expression of that energy—and one reason people choose to visit, live and invest here.

The staircase from a truck to recognition

LeRoy, his wife Lindsey and partners Nathan and Sawyer Lewis started when they were all ready to take the risk. The early food-truck period was difficult: limited foot traffic, punishing heat and reliance on their own social media before the surrounding destination had developed.

There was no single moment when everything changed. Press, returning guests and new opportunities arrived step by step. The story is less a rocket launch than a staircase: small goal, small goal, larger goal—then another level built on the work underneath it.