Name: Daddy's House of Ribs
Telephone: (209) 797-5000
Rating: 4.4

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Salon PaisleySalon Paisley

Worth the Detour: Daddy’s House of Ribs Delivers Smoky Perfection in Tiny Lockeford Picture this: you’re cruising Highway 88 through the sleepy farm town of Lockeford, population 3,200, past the legendary Lockeford Meat & Sausage Co., when a hand-painted sign screams “RIBS” in red letters. Pull in. You’ve just found Daddy’s House of Ribs, a 40-seat BBQ shrine that smells like hickory heaven and feels like a family reunion you actually want to attend. Owner Alvin “Big Daddy” Sims built the pit himself—an 8-foot beast that kisses every rack with oak and applewood for 6–8 hours. No shortcuts, no boil-then-sauce nonsense. The motto painted above the counter says it all: “We don’t hide our meat under sauce.” Translation: the bark is the star. I ordered the full rack of St. Louis-cut pork ribs ($34 with two large sides) and added green beans because, well, balance. What arrived was a mahogany cathedral of meat. Twelve bones, each one lacquered in a peppery bark so thick it crunched like caramelized bacon. Tug gently and the meat surrendered—pink smoke ring, molten fat, zero chew. One bite and I forgot words. The mild house sauce (bourbon-kissed, tangy-sweet) sat untouched until the last three ribs, when I finally dipped out of curiosity. Unnecessary. The ribs are that good solo. Now, the green beans. Don’t roll your eyes—these aren’t the sad cafeteria spears. Fresh-snapped, simmered low and slow with smoked ham hock, onion, and a whisper of garlic, they collapse into silky, porky bliss. Bright, salty, addictive. I ate every last one with a spoon and considered licking the bowl. Pro move: crumble a rib bone in there for extra smoke. Sides rotate daily, but the cornbread muffin is non-negotiable—golden dome, crackly edges, honey-sweet crumb that steams when you split it. Wash it down with iced tea so strong it could wake a coma patient. The vibe? Pure Americana cool. A turquoise ’59 Cadillac tailfin slices through one wall, signed jerseys from local heroes hang above booths, and a baby grand in the corner begs “Play Me!” On Saturdays, a kid inevitably tickles out “Heart and Soul” while you gnaw bones. Outdoor picnic tables overlook the sausage shop across the street—grab links to go and thank me later. Service is small-town gold. Big Daddy himself circled twice, asking “How we doin’, baby?” and refilled tea without being asked. Tab for one full rack, two sides, muffin, and tea: $41 before tip. In 2025, that’s a highway robbery in reverse. One note: they close at 6 p.m. sharp (7 p.m. Fri/Sat). Arrive by 5 or risk the dreaded “pit’s cold” sign. Call ahead on weekends; the parking lot overflows with Bay Area plates. Daddy’s isn’t chasing Yelp hype or TikTok fame. It’s chasing the memory of your uncle’s backyard cookout, only executed with pitmaster precision. I left with sauce on my shirt, a Styrofoam box of leftovers, and zero regrets. Next trip I’m tackling the beef dino ribs. Lockeford is now on my permanent BBQ pilgrimage map. Five smoky stars. Bring wet wipes and an empty stomach.

Jose AguilarJose Aguilar

1: Didn't feel welcomed or greeted coming into the store. 2: Prices are a little high to be expected for the soaring prices of meat these days. 3: Food selection is very basic, very minimal. 4: we selected the $33.92 3 meat combo meal, and I shared them with my wife. 5: The beef brisket looked and smoked well. Taste was very dry, and not much flavor wouldn't be recommended. 6: Pork ribs fell off the bone but very dry, not much taste wouldn't recommend. 7: Tri tip looked smoked well but was very dry and not much taste.. Wouldn't recommend it. 8: sides baked beans and mac and cheese with corn bread. The best part of the food was the baked beans, mac and cheese very mushy, corn bread very dry and we found some hair in it. I was looking forward to this bbq spot drove by it countless times, but I'm very disappointed in the outcome of the food. Save your money.

J White (JWhite)J White (JWhite)

We had an excellent experience here after a nice Moto ride. We were greeted with a warm friendly welcome in. I didn't get her name but I felt like family by the end. I didn't want to leave, I just wanted to sit there & attempt to finish my amazing food. Everything smelled so good it was hard to choose, I don't think you can go wrong, everything we had was Flavor Town amazing. We loved our tri tip & brisket sams, baked beans were bomb, mac n cheese was yummy, corn bread was tasty served with a butter pat & a real honey packet. Banana pudding was the bomb & we'll have to finish that later along with the peach cobbler as we had no room in our tummies at the time of our visit. We'll be dreaming about it until we go back & try something different off the menu. What will it be?? Excited to return. THANK YOU! Daddy's!

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Featured dishes

View full menu

Beef Brisket Meal

Tri Tip Meal

Brisket Sandwich

Pulled Pork Sandwich

Tri-Tip Sandwich

Reviews of Daddy's House of Ribs

4.4

(178)

5.0

5w

Worth the Detour: Daddy’s House of Ribs Delivers Smoky Perfection in Tiny Lockeford Picture this: you’re cruising Highway 88 through the sleepy farm town of Lockeford, population 3,200, past the legendary Lockeford Meat & Sausage Co., when a hand-painted sign screams “RIBS” in red letters. Pull in. You’ve just found Daddy’s House of Ribs, a 40-seat BBQ shrine that smells like hickory heaven and feels like a family reunion you actually want to attend. Owner Alvin “Big Daddy” Sims built the pit himself—an 8-foot beast that kisses every rack with oak and applewood for 6–8 hours. No shortcuts, no boil-then-sauce nonsense. The motto painted above the counter says it all: “We don’t hide our meat under sauce.” Translation: the bark is the star. I ordered the full rack of St. Louis-cut pork ribs ($34 with two large sides) and added green beans because, well, balance. What arrived was a mahogany cathedral of meat. Twelve bones, each one lacquered in a peppery bark so thick it crunched like caramelized bacon. Tug gently and the meat surrendered—pink smoke ring, molten fat, zero chew. One bite and I forgot words. The mild house sauce (bourbon-kissed, tangy-sweet) sat untouched until the last three ribs, when I finally dipped out of curiosity. Unnecessary. The ribs are that good solo. Now, the green beans. Don’t roll your eyes—these aren’t the sad cafeteria spears. Fresh-snapped, simmered low and slow with smoked ham hock, onion, and a whisper of garlic, they collapse into silky, porky bliss. Bright, salty, addictive. I ate every last one with a spoon and considered licking the bowl. Pro move: crumble a rib bone in there for extra smoke. Sides rotate daily, but the cornbread muffin is non-negotiable—golden dome, crackly edges, honey-sweet crumb that steams when you split it. Wash it down with iced tea so strong it could wake a coma patient. The vibe? Pure Americana cool. A turquoise ’59 Cadillac tailfin slices through one wall, signed jerseys from local heroes hang above booths, and a baby grand in the corner begs “Play Me!” On Saturdays, a kid inevitably tickles out “Heart and Soul” while you gnaw bones. Outdoor picnic tables overlook the sausage shop across the street—grab links to go and thank me later. Service is small-town gold. Big Daddy himself circled twice, asking “How we doin’, baby?” and refilled tea without being asked. Tab for one full rack, two sides, muffin, and tea: $41 before tip. In 2025, that’s a highway robbery in reverse. One note: they close at 6 p.m. sharp (7 p.m. Fri/Sat). Arrive by 5 or risk the dreaded “pit’s cold” sign. Call ahead on weekends; the parking lot overflows with Bay Area plates. Daddy’s isn’t chasing Yelp hype or TikTok fame. It’s chasing the memory of your uncle’s backyard cookout, only executed with pitmaster precision. I left with sauce on my shirt, a Styrofoam box of leftovers, and zero regrets. Next trip I’m tackling the beef dino ribs. Lockeford is now on my permanent BBQ pilgrimage map. Five smoky stars. Bring wet wipes and an...