Willow Villarreal is hot right now. Like, literally hot. He parks his Willow’s Texas BBQ truck outside the Big Star Bar in Houston Thursday through Sunday, and the heat can be punishing inside. Another trailer, painted black, is parked in the back corner of the lot. It holds the J & R Smokemaster cabinet smoker, and I promise there’s no A/C in there. Every morning that he’s open, Villarreal unloads briskets to wrap them, then loads the smoker with ribs, turkey, sausage, a little more wood before abandoning it for an hour or so. He keeps his fingers crossed that nothing will burn up while he drives the food truck to the commissary for the daily inspection and then back to his parking space to get ready for the day. He hasn’t had any disasters yet.

Villarreal has also become a great, new story in Houston barbecue. I dined with the Houston Chronicle’s J.C. Reid, who recently praised the barbecue in print, and a magazine photographer was there for another story while I ate. In two years, he has gone from cooking for a barbecue kiosk at Wet ‘n’ Wild SplashTown to getting citywide attention for the barbecue he’s selling under his own name. The picnic tables outside aren’t an ideal setting for a barbecue lunch in the summer, and the lighting inside the comfortably cool Big Star Bar is low enough that a lit cigar would make a noticeable difference. I certainly don’t fault them for that. It is a bar after all, and the Topo Chico they served me was so cold it was almost a slushee, which eased the heat outside a bit.

The side offerings were also seasonally appropriate. Villarreal’s fiance, Jasmine Barela, prepares the orders inside the truck, and also takes charge of the barbecue accompaniments. Happiness is the duo of bright and juicy marinated grape tomatoes and a side of the otherworldly cream corn with a few flecks of jalapeño and black pepper. Summer barbecue sides don’t come much better. It may be a little warm for pinto beans and a pot of greens, but both were done superbly. I also loved the red-skin potato salad, and Villarreal has come to appreciate it too, albeit begrudgingly. “We had a traditional yellow potato salad,” he said of the mustard potato salad that this one replaced. “She finally had it to where it was just like I remembered growing up,” then she got bored and changed the recipe. I had no complaints.