“These ribs are 10 times better than Phil’s!” a friend effused during our chance encounter at Frankie “The Bull’s” BBQ. “This is real barbecue!” he continued as the hearty scent of smoke emanated from a few remaining morsels sitting in his meal basket.

Opened recently by Frank Terzoli, the vivacious contestant from Bravo’s “Top Chef” (season 2), this Western-themed eatery undoubtedly cooks animal flesh way differently than at the ever-popular Phil’s BBQ. For better or worse, it just depends on your taste.

Terzoli uses a large, low-heat smoker filled with mesquite and applewood for cooking every piece of meat to completion – beef and pork ribs, brisket, chicken and salmon. The sturdier meats reside in the contraption for up to 10 hours to break down their collagens. And everything undergoes a dry spice rub at the start. At Phil’s the ribs are boiled and then flame grilled to achieve their carcinogenic gloss. To diehard barbecue buffs like Terzoli, that’s considered a shortcut.

The flavor difference between the two is stark. “Authentic barbecuing,” as they call it in regions of Texas, Louisiana and West Virginia, injects deep smokiness to the core of meat, often to the point where you can’t clearly distinguish a chicken breast from a salmon filet. But the outcome is enthralling, perhaps because our taste buds loop back to their primordial roots, when our early ancestors discovered that the creatures they killed were more palatable and digestible when cooked slowly over kindling wood.

It’s not that pre-boiling or the use of direct flames is undesirable. The elongated line at Phil’s is proof of that. Though at Frankie’s, there are no grills. And you won’t find burgers on the menu as a result.

“I serve food to customers directly from the smoker in seven minutes,” Terzoli says. “A burger would take 17 minutes to grill, and I don’t want to slow down the kitchen outflow.”

With a meat-thirsty companion in tow, we consumed enough barbecue to smell as though we spent several hours at the lip of a bonfire. That is by no means a complaint, given the rarity of smoked anything in this town.

From a sampler platter ($22.95), we grabbed eagerly at a quarter rack of pork ribs and two Flintstone-sized beef bones. The meat from each was thrillingly tender. The pork, however, was drier in comparison because most of its mildly sweet, house-made barbecue sauce evaporated in the smoking process (though this was nothing that a free side of the stuff wouldn’t fix). Larger pieces of fat on the beef ribs imparted extra moisture and a meatier pith, and we thoroughly savored them in their semi-naked state.

The platter (actually separate paper-lined baskets) also included a half chicken and a chubby salmon filet. The latter revealed an additional layer of flavor, thanks to a brown sugar glaze that created a “candied” exterior. The chicken was fine but a tad dry in the breast section, which reconfirmed my preference for juicy rotisserie over dry-smoked in this case.

Homey cornbread and two sides are included in the deal. Terzoli’s homemade mac and cheese is a winner. It’s made with sharp cheddar, Monterey Jack, smoked Gouda, Romano and Parmesan, and then topped with crushed Cheez-It crackers. Equally titillating was the roasted corn salad, which mingles cucumbers, colorful bell peppers and chili-rice vinaigrette with kernels lopped fresh off the cob – a cool and refreshing palate cleanser when jumping from one smoked meat to the other.

Other side options include Texas beans, coleslaw and skinny hand-cut Cajun fries, which when ordered a la carte for only $2.49, will easily feed five people. Additional meat items extend to pulled pork or brisket sandwiches, shrimp Po’ Boys and terrifically spicy gumbo, using shrimp, homemade andouille sausage and traditional file powder from dried leaves of sassafras trees.

Frankie’s casual atmosphere feels like a quaint retreat into some modern-day cowboy land, with customized cowboy hats for the staff, plus wagon wheels and a striking Western mural adorning the outdoor patio. An interior back-lit bar houses microbrews on tap, plus a couple of wines produced in Sicily by Terzoli’s family members. (The Nero D’Avola blooms with red fruitiness and stands up well to smoky tongues.)

“We’re not pretentious. We don’t care who you are,” Terzoli emphasizes. But he cares deeply about his food, having opened dozens of restaurants as an executive chef in countries around the globe.

His culinary mantra: “If you don’t put your heart and soul into cooking, then order out.”

No doubt, this is certainly a joint to keep on speed dial when your barbecuing skills are in the dumps.