Super Bowl 59
And that’s just the slices of meat RUPERT BATES may have consumed at Hickory’s Smokehouse, watching Kansas City Chiefs take on Philadelphia Eagles.
When it comes to the Super Bowl and you’re based in the UK, even as a novice, you know it’s going to be a late one and a long one.
While I’ve heard of Patrick Mahomes, king quarterback of the Kansas City Chiefs as they lifted the Super Bowl in 2023 and 2024 – and now I know who Jalen Hurts of the 2025 winners Philadelphia Eagles is – NFL is not my forte, unless you count Philly cheese steak as a tenuous link.
I did my research, and my biggest concern was how a sport that consists of four quarters of 15 minutes each can last three hours – not to mention a half-time ‘break’ that rolls out A-list entertainers – and that’s before you top and tailgate the whole night with TV previews and reviews.
How would I stay awake? How would I know my flea flicker from my checkdown pass? What’s the difference between a blitz and a bootleg?
Fortunately, Hickory’s Smokehouse had my back, and my belly. Even if Super Bowl has not entered my red zone of understanding, I was smart enough to realise that an iconic American sporting event – make that the most watched in the world – meant mountains of iconic American food, and the best comes smoked.
And so, with New Orleans, Louisiana, a little too far, I headed to Hickory’s in Earlswood, Solihull, near Birmingham in the good ol’ U of K. This is TV sport and restaurant entertainment done extraordinarily well. Hickory’s has smokehouses across the country, with more on the way, and Super Bowl LIX parties everywhere last February.
Hickory’s secret sauce atop its smash burgers, smoked chicken wings, and corndogs with ketchup, is actually its authenticity. By dint of geography alone there has to an element of pastiche to replicate the BBQ joints of the Southern States of America in the English West Midlands. But Hickory’s smoke signals cultural camaraderie and shared values, not appropriation or culinary kitsch. Their smokers are straight out of Missouri, Tennessee and Texas for a start.
Hickory’s chefs and smokehouse teams regularly travel to the States, to gather inspiration, visiting old joints, finding new ones, learning at the pits of masters, finding new recipes and cooking techniques to bring home.
The world may be a very divided and troublesome place, but, in terms of the special food relationship, the British and Americans remain brothers in briskets.
Hickory’s clearly knew I was coming. I was presented on arrival with the Rookie’s Guide to the NFL, which included a review of the season by Nat Coombs, with Hickory’s the British broadcaster’s official podcast partner.
It was already late, pushing towards 11pm, but that is no reason not to order The Smokehouse platter. Texas-style, well-marbled, grain-fed beef brisket; Memphis-style baby back ribs; BBQ baby back ribs; smoked pork, jalapeno and cheese sausage; hand-pulled pork and pit beans; bourbon-glazed smoked chicken wings; and eight-hour smoked Jacob’s Ladder, now known as Jacob’s NFL Ladder, as eight hours is about the time it takes to watch the Super Bowl.
This did take me up to Kendrick Lamar’s half-time show. I think the Eagles had practically landed the Lombardi Trophy by now (you see I did read the Rookie’s Guide) and this was confirmed when Taylor Swift, girlfriend of Travis Kelce of the Chiefs, took a large swig of Evan Williams bourbon and stormed out of Hickory’s. Or at least I think it was Taylor Swift. It was definitely Evan Williams bourbon.
Hickory’s pale ale was by now going down a storm and I was beginning to feel well marbled and very definitely lower and slower. As I constantly tell my family when they question my fitness: ‘the fat is where the flavour is!’
I am not sure there are many restaurants with a page in the menu that reads: Game Day Food – available from midnight. Appetite sated, we headed into Monday morning, but you can’t turn down dirty fries – crispy shallots, bacon bits, cheese and magic dust – even at dawn.
As the Eagles soared high to secure the Super Bowl, my wings were smoked. I may have put a hic into Hickory’s that night – thank you The Big Lebowski (bourbon, Licor 43, espresso, popcorn and coffee cream – don’t judge) – but I’ll be back. After all, I didn’t get round to the Southern-style cauliflower burnt ends with hot honey, or the table-toasted campfire marshmallows.
Never enough time even when it’s the Super Bowl. Now, if only the USA could embrace cricket, we could have a five-day feed at Hickory’s.
