In many ways, Lil JJ’s Smokehouse falls right in line with other Texas barbecue joints. On a recent Saturday afternoon, the unmistakable booms of meat cutters chopping brisket boomerang through this small restaurant in far north Fort Worth, while the mouthwatering fragrance of smoked meats drifts from kitchen to dining room, tantalizing those standing in line for John and Brandi Berry’s brisket and ribs.  

But lean in and you’ll see that this newly opened spot is far from your typical barbecue joint. Everywhere you look — on the walls, on the menu — you’ll find tributes to the restaurant’s namesake, Lil JJ. Here’s a photo of him playing football and another of him hanging out with his friends. On the menu, there’s a sandwich named after him. Matter of fact, the restaurant’s logo is a photo of JJ, smiling wide.  

Lil JJ, you see, is John’s son, John Jr., and this restaurant is a tribute to JJ’s memory. Last year, at the age of 20, JJ passed away from a fentanyl overdose — another life lost to the relentlessly deadly drug.  

“This is his restaurant,” John says. “Every part of it, every inch of it. It’s our memorial to him.”  

Many North Texas barbecue aficionados knew JJ from when he worked at his pop’s previous place, Berry Best BBQ in northeast Tarrant, where he started out sweeping floors and scooping beans into to-go containers. A few years later, he was chopping beef alongside his dad. JJ, in fact, came up with the idea for the restaurant’s most popular sandwich, made with a mountain of chopped brisket and chopped sausage.  

“He said, ‘Dad, why don’t you mix chopped brisket with chopped sausage? You know it’d be good,’” says Brandi. “To this day, it’s still our top-selling sandwich.”  

It was a heartwarming story, how this family worked so closely together, just a few feet apart from one another, morning, noon and night, always, always busy — stressful circumstances that could very well tear other families apart. In 2021, for Valentine’s Day, we profiled John and Brandi and told their story of how they fell — and stayed — in love. 

Last year, the North Texas barbecue community watched in disbelief as John shared the news on social media that JJ had died. On March 10, 2024, JJ passed away from a fentanyl overdose, devastating the family in ways unimaginable.  

“Losing a child, there’s nothing like it,” Brandi says. “There’s no way to describe that feeling, that emptiness. No way at all.”  

Disillusioned, John says he was initially hesitant to continue the restaurant. “For a while, I just didn’t know what to do,” he says.  

The couple had already endured so much — a finicky economy, a fire that severely damaged a previous location, the craft barbecue trend that stole some of their thunder. But through prayer and the support of friends and family, Brandi and John say, the couple decided to start anew — new location, new name, new beginning.  

Thus was born Lil JJ’s Smokehouse, which opened earlier this year in blossoming north Fort Worth, where there’s not another family-run barbecue joint for miles.  

“There’s so much happening in Fort Worth now, so much growth, we knew we wanted to be a part of it,” John says. “Fort Worth has been our home for a long time, so it makes sense for us to finally move our business here.”  

The Berrys’ food isn’t a part of the trendy craft-cue craze. Instead, it’s reminiscent of the Fort Worth barbecue of yesterday — before fatty brisket became all the rage; portions are both sizable and affordable.  

Brisket is served lean, outlined in just enough crust and tiny tufts of fat to give it flavor, personality, and nuance. It’s excellent on its own, served in a sandwich or a plate, but chopped up, it becomes a wondrous thing, every bite the perfect balance of crust, fat, and smoky beef.  

The menu also includes other barbecue standards such as pork ribs, chicken, bologna, and turkey, all smoked in indoor rotisserie smokers — an about-face from the family’s previous outdoor, offset smokers. But John does wonders with rotisseries, imbuing a smoky flavor that’s deep, balanced, and distinctly his own, thanks to his secret seven-blend seasoning. 

New items include Boom Boom Candy, which John describes as a bite-size Texas Twinkie, with bacon, pepper jack cheese, and a jalapeño wrapped around a chunk of brisket.   

As was the case at Berry Best, much thought and effort are put into the sides. Collard greens are leafy and perfectly salty. Mac and cheese is appropriately fluffy and outrageously cheesy. Potato salad is gloriously old school. 

But as far as sides go, baked beans remain the star attraction. Mixed with assorted smoked meats and brimming with both a sweet and savory flavor, they’re the reason Berry Best attracted the attention of Texas Monthly, the Star-Telegram, and other media outlets near and far, putting the restaurant on Texas’ barbecue map.  

“We haven’t changed the recipe by one ingredient,” says Brandi. “People still order it as their main dish.” Now you can order the beans by themselves as a side or with a sausage dunked in them.  

For nearly a decade, with JJ often in tow, the Berrys have played an integral role in the North Texas barbecue scene. Their business started, as it often does for barbecue restaurants, in their backyard, where John would cook for friends and family. 

At their urging, the Oak Cliff native took the leap into the food business in 2016, first with a food truck, then with a tiny, to-go-only spot in Watauga.  

“JJ was John’s first employee,” Brandi says, laughing. “He was a good helper.”  

As their popularity grew, so did their ambition and soon came a second location at North East Mall. But the couple closed both locations when they found their dream spot: a 2,000-square-foot brick-and-mortar in North Richland Hills.  

They spent five years there, surviving the pandemic, the craft-cue craze, an unsteady economy.  “The restaurant business is not for the meek,” John says. “We went through a lot there, experienced a lot, learned a lot.” 

Now well into their next chapter at Lil JJ’s Smokehouse, the couple has employed two other family members: sons Traelon and Trenton.  

Not far from where Trenton slices up brisket and Traelon helps man the kitchen is a life-size photo of their brother, that big smile on his face. 

“I took that picture of JJ while we were standing in the yard, getting ready to go out to eat,” says Brandi. “It makes me so happy to see him so happy.  

“John and I choose to look at the positives,” Brandi says. “We have this amazing opportunity to carry on his memory. It’s an honor to be able to do that.”    

Lil JJ’s Smokehouse, 9321 North Freeway, liljjsmokehouse.com