Pit Mastermind
Renowned chef and pitmaster Matt Horn expands his culinary empire with a new meat mecca in Elk Grove. With Michelin-rated, melt-in-your-mouth brisket and ribs, the down-home Horn Barbecue delivers unfancy feasts that are worth ’cueing up for.

Chef-owner Matt Horn in front of an entrance mural by local artist John Horton at the new Horn Barbecue restaurant in Elk Grove. (Photo by Andri Tambunan)
The first thing that greets you in the entryway of Horn Barbecue in Elk Grove is a giant mural of a 12-foot-tall bull that is mythic, muscular and regal, wearing a golden crown and charging at you with vivid force out of an inky, ebony wall. If you had any doubts you were walking into a palace of beef, Sacramento artist John Horton’s magnificent beast has banished them. So get ready to load up your platter and savor a feast fit for a king or queen.
The service is simple and streamlined: You line up cafeteria style and order your sides straight off a steam tray (everything’s fresh, as the food gets devoured too quickly for any dish to sit around). Servers in black T-shirts scoop your sides into plastic tubs whether for takeout or dine-in, one of the rough-edged practices that keeps this experience down-home and on budget. Once you’ve decided on comforting sidekicks like mac and cheese and Granny’s potatoes, your tray is passed down to the carver. Prices on the board are listed by the half pound, and you can mix and match your grill. Don’t be shy—even ordering with abandon, it’s easy to feed two for around $50 here, which is a pleasingly affordable price point for barbecue.

Horn Barbecue offers a feast that’s easy on the eyes and taste buds, as well as the wallet. (Photo by Jeremy Sykes)
The blond picnic tables remain from Slow & Low, the barbecue restaurant that previously occupied the space, but celebrated chef-owner Matt Horn’s flair for the dramatic has transformed what was once a light, airy hall into something smoldering and seductive. The all-black walls and ceiling disappear behind strings of Edison lights like theatrical dark skies, giving the cavernous space the illusion of being a backyard barbecue party under the stars—especially so when bands play on Friday and Saturday evenings. It’s almost like a magical theme park barbecue ride.
If you order the brisket (and you should), you’ll be asked if you would like your portion of Harris Ranch beef cut from the lean end or the fatty end. Don’t worry: At Horn, there is no wrong answer. Meat like this, cooked for up to 16 hours, is succulent and moist throughout, with just the right amount of glistening, jiggly fat cap to melt in your mouth. But if you’re in a daring mood, order the fattier side for the indulgent experience of eating meat with a rich, opulent mouthfeel you might normally only find in creamy, whipped desserts.
Don’t sleep on the ribs either. The smokiness of the sparingly sauced pork ribs shines through. You taste the aromatic perfume of the wood more than the bitter char of smoke, lightly punctuated by the piquant pop provided by that thin patina of sweet-sour sauce.
The pickled cucumber and onion do the same thing for the palate as they do for the eye—provide a bright, acidic top note to the dark, dusky, velvety underground of the slow-roasted beef and pork. The pickled items are to the meat what wasabi and ginger are to sushi, the bright edges essential to defining the rich center.
Each element on your tray has a knock-out punch requiring a beat of recovery, so you’ll find your own rhythm rotating your bites—greens to potatoes to brisket to pickle, cornbread, cornbread, cornbread, greens, etc. Yes, you’ll find yourself taking at least three nibbles of the honey-glazed cornbread that eats like candy before circling back to the salty, peppery greens again. Whatever your flavor and texture vehicle of choice, with each new bite, you’ll be transported further from the Central Valley into the heart of Texas.
American barbecue is an export of the South that’s a lot like the blues, a deceptively simple music genre that thrives on just three chords, soulfully delivered. Barbecue, likewise, is all about delivery and mastery, elevating basic ingredients. Brisket, Matt Horn’s signature specialty, is one of the humblest cuts a butcher has on offer. It takes the genius of a pitmaster, usually one who had apprenticed for years, to oversee the dozen-plus hour, alchemical process of turning the meat to savory, unctuous gold.
That’s why chef Horn’s origin story is such a unique hero’s journey—even as of 10 years ago, he had no interest in cooking. Horn worked retail jobs as a shoe store manager, and it wasn’t until 2015, while doing a stint as a package handler at UPS, that he started making meals at home. His aim was just to save money, but he discovered a calling. A humble pot of pasta “ignited that passion and took me on my culinary journey,” he recalls. And the cuisine most evocative and mnemonic from childhood was old-fashioned Southern barbecue.
Horn’s family hails from Oklahoma, Louisiana and Texas, “so the food cooked by my grandmothers, my mom and my aunties was very Southern-driven,” he says. “When we were spending time with family, barbecue was always there.”
But while Horn absorbed those cultural influences, he set about very deliberately to learn barbecue on his own, conducting experimental, all-night cooks in his grandmother’s backyard in Fresno—where he grew up—pulling a cot outside to sleep under the stars, next to his late grandfather’s smoker, the better to tend the meat. “I was really intent on trying to create my own singular style of barbecue,” he says. The learning curve was steep. “A lot of meat was burned,” he says with a laugh.
After a year of experimenting, Horn and his business partner wife Nina—who is no slouch in the kitchen herself (you’ll want to make room on your tray for her rich, simple banana pudding)—began selling at farmers’ markets and pop-ups, with mixed success. Some days, they would sell very little, and have to donate most of the meat to shelters. But the chef persisted, driven by that passion. “The fire, the smoke, and then the cooking of the meat—it made me feel like I was at peace in my life,” he says. “That was what I was yearning for all along, to find peace and fulfillment.”
Eventually, persistence paid off, and in 2020, Horn opened his first brick-and-mortar restaurant in Oakland. Instantly, lines snaked around the block followed by a string of accolades. In 2021, the vaunted Michelin Guide named Horn Barbecue a Bib Gourmand, the designation it gives to restaurants that provide the “best value for money.” Horn Barbecue also landed on Esquire magazine’s annual list of the Best New Restaurants in America and received a James Beard Award nomination for Best New Restaurant. Horn himself was named one of Food & Wine magazine’s Best New Chefs. Despite setbacks along the way, like the original flagship’s closure in November 2023 after a devastating fire, the pitmaster’s BBQ footprint has grown. Horn Barbecue relaunched in a new Oakland location the following spring, opened in Lafayette last December (to much fanfare and worth-the-wait lines out the door), and is branching out into the eponymous chef ’s hometown of Fresno.
In the meantime, diners are flocking to the Elk Grove outpost, which opened in late April. “I’d been looking in Sacramento for a while. We were looking for a great, family-driven community. People in Elk Grove have been extremely receptive,” says Horn, who has three young children at home in Oakland, of the close-knit town. “It’s beautiful when you go into a place and people are excited about it and bringing families.”

The family-friendly restaurant was an instant hit with the Elk Grove community when it opened in April. (Photo by Jeremy Sykes)
Finishing up your soul-satisfying platter, you feel the peace and fulfillment that Horn had sought and found. Maybe it’s the primal nature of eating chunks of meat cooked over fire. But you know you’ll be back. With an atmosphere that invites you to settle in, Horn Barbecue is more than a restaurant. It’s the coveted social “third place” between home and work, where people come together. And that’s by design.
“Barbecue is more than food,” Horn says. “Barbecue is love. Barbecue is community.”
9700 Railroad St. Elk Grove. 916-314-4676. hornbarbecue.com