In Search of the California Barbecue Tradition

From storied Santa Maria tri-tip on the Central Coast, to barbacoa in Los Angeles, to hot links in West Oakland, the rules for slow-and-low are constantly rewritten here.

ROSEMEAD, Calif. — In a vast, sun-baked parking lot, I stopped my car for a second — two seconds, max — scanning the aerial map in my text messages. The car behind me honked viciously, but nothing could spoil my mood: If the map was correct, Winnie Yee-Lakhani was in her truck, just a few hundred feet away, with a paper bag full of mashed potatoes and mac and cheese, a hot rack of ribs, brisket and smoked pork belly char siu. The belly meat radiated with citrus peel, fennel and star anise. It was intricately salty and smoky, but not aggressively so. The fat that remained after rendering had turned tender and bouncy, soft almost to the point of creaminess, sticky with a crumbly, candy-like glaze. The char siu was faintly reminiscent of the sweet, reddish-stained Cantonese roast pork that I knew, but with its own distinct power and pull. It barely made it home. Ms. Yee-Lakhani, who wraps her bellies like briskets, was born in a small town 60 miles north of Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and grew up speaking Chinese at home in Garden Grove and Anaheim, Calif. She runs Smoke Queen out of a commissary kitchen in Orange County with three pickup points in the Los Angeles area.