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Crystal Clear Photography
The Sausage Shoppe
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Crystal Clear Photography
The Sausage Shoppe
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Crystal Clear Photography
The Sausage Shoppe
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Crystal Clear Photography
The Sausage Shoppe
In barbecue circles not that long ago, mind you, sausage was often considered an afterthought — the third wheel to brisket and ribs. Many barbecue restaurants, short on time and know-how, would skip making their own and instead opt for selling commercial links. Making sausage takes patience, and most barbecue restaurants would rather spend theirs on fine-tuning their brisket and ribs.
The craft barbecue movement currently sweeping over Fort Worth has, of course, been a game-changer for sausage. It’s now front and center on various barbecue menus, and pitmasters like Trevor Sales of Brix Barbecue and Dayne Weaver of Dayne’s Craft Barbecue take great pride in making their own and coming up with various flavor combinations.
But for the local Chambers family, sausage has always been a way of life. For the past quarter century, Ivy Chambers and now his son, Alandres, have run a quaint soul food restaurant, called The Sausage Shoppe, in which the restaurant’s namesake is the star dish.
“Some places do great burgers; some do great pizza,” Alandres says. “Our calling card is sausage. It’s what’s kept us in business all these years.”
The family recently moved The Sausage Shoppe to a new location, at 3329 Alta Mesa Blvd., their third location in 25 years. Alandres now runs the restaurant, after Ivy passed away last year.
A native of east Texas, Ivy used to sell sausage out of his home, then out of a small restaurant on East Seminary, where legions of in-the-know neighbors would line up for his links, which he grinded, stuffed, and smoked himself.
“He learned how to make it from his father,” Alandres says. “And that’s how I learned how to do it, by watching my father. The recipes and techniques have all been handed down.”
In 2009, when Ivy turned the business over to Alandres, the restaurant expanded its footprint considerably, moving into a larger spot on McCart Avenue in far south Fort Worth. As a result of the higher profile, barbecue chasers began to take notice, including Daniel Vaughn, aka the BBQ Snob, who posted a favorable review.
“The Star-Telegram had always been kind to us, but we started noticing new faces after Daniel wrote about us,” Alandres says.
In December, they moved once again, to the Alta Mesa location, once home to Taste ‘N See, a chicken and waffles spot. “There’s a bigger dining room, a drive-thru window, more space to park, a patio,” Alandres says. “There’s a church next door, a doctor’s office. A lot of built-in foot traffic.”
The Sausage Shoppe
The Sausage Shoppe soulfoodfortworthtx.com 3329 Alta Mesa Blvd.
Sausage is served in a very plain and simple and straightforward way — on a plate, by the whole link (roughly a pound), with pickles and onions and a couple pieces of white bread. You can slice it (novice!) or wrap the bread, onions, and pickles around it and tear into it using only your hands and teeth.
There are also sausage sandwiches, made with your choice of beef, pork, or a blend of the two. Sandwiches are a less expensive way to sample each of the three sausages; each comes with about a quarter-pound to half a pound of meat.
Though sausage is the restaurant’s signature item, there’s also a full menu of soul food.
There’s chicken spaghetti, turkey wings as big as the State Fair’s, chicken-fried steak, pork chops, meat loaf, oxtails, beef tips, and what may be the restaurant’s second favorite dish, smoked chicken. It shares smoker space with the sausage, occupying the lower rack of a tall cabinet smoker, where it sops up fat juices sweated out by the sausage, essentially basting it.
Sides include mashed potatoes, collard greens, black-eyed peas, cucumber salad, french fries, potato salad, and candied yams, made with brown sugar and marshmallows. Alandres’ mom, Mary, often makes desserts.
On a recent Saturday, the dining room was buzzing with energy. Alandres alternates between working the cash register, the drive-thru line, and the kitchen. So does, essentially, everyone else who works there.
A picture of Ivy hangs nearby.
“I know he’d be proud,” Alandres says. “He built this, and we’re carrying it on. Third generation of sausage-makers. Yes, I know he’d be proud.”
