By Best of Texas BBQ | In honor of National BBQ Day
In a world of pitmasters chasing trophies, headlines, and heat, Blane Hunter stands out—not just for the racks of ribbons or lines down the sidewalk at his Omaha-based Porky Butts BBQ, but for the story behind the smoke.
His story doesn’t start in the Midwest. It starts on the Gulf Coast of Texas, in the humid heat of Crystal Beach, where a young Blane learned how to tend fire not from a culinary school, but from his father, Marty Hunter—a hard-working, no-nonsense BBQ man who believed in doing things the right way or not at all.
Blane wasn’t just watching; he was working. As a kid, he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with other fathers and sons, helping run overnight cooks on homemade offset smokers to raise money for their Little League team. “We’d cook briskets and chicken all night,” he recalls, “just to sell them the next day for uniforms and bats.” It wasn’t just barbecue—it was community. It was legacy. And it was the foundation for one of America’s most impressive BBQ careers.
Built in Texas. Refined in the Fire.
Blane’s earliest solo brisket was, in his words, “a complete disaster.” Undercooked, chewy, and “probably the worst elastic you’ve ever tasted.” But what it lit inside him was fire. The real kind.
Today, Hunter is one of the most decorated pitmasters in the country. His résumé reads like a BBQ fantasy league:
- 2016 KCBS National Grand Champion – Team of the Year
- 2017 American Royal Open World Champion
- 23 Grand Championships across 9 states
- 130+ competitions, 85 top-ten finishes, and enough perfect scores to fill a trophy case—and they do.
But the wins weren’t the goal. “Being the best at BBQ was never my plan,” he tells us. “I just wanted to give people a memorable experience—and really great BBQ.”
Old Silver and the Road to Omaha
Blane and his family eventually moved north, bringing their old smoker with them—a hulking handmade steel pit called Old Silver, drawn on a napkin and built by Marty and a few buddies. “That pit was there for every family event, every backyard gathering,” Blane says. “Then we hauled it to Nebraska and kept it burning.”
It wasn’t long before the BBQ scene took notice. In 2013, at the urging of friend and fellow BBQ junkie Rodney Nietfeldt, Blane jumped into the competitive world. His first competition? A bust. His response? “We’re doing one next weekend.”
That grit defines him.
Within two years, he’d won his first Grand Championship. By 2016, he was King of the Smoker. And in 2019, he opened Porky Butts BBQ—a restaurant built on everything he learned in Texas, refined by the challenges of running a business, and wrapped in the values his father instilled in him.
Porky Butts: Where the Line Wraps the Building
Located in Omaha, Nebraska, Porky Butts BBQ has become a culinary pilgrimage for meat lovers far and wide—including Texans who’ve heard the legend and drive north just to taste what a Lone Star heart and a Midwest hustle can create. It’s reminiscent of a Saturday morning in Austin—just trade the Hill Country air for Omaha’s skies, and the smoke still draws a crowd.
Lines wrap around the building, especially when Blane puts out a tray of Snake River Farms Beef Ribs. They go fast.
It’s not just locals lining up. Word travels fast when a Texas pitmaster makes good outside state lines. Last summer, five women from Dallas loaded up their car and drove nearly 600 miles to check off Porky Butts BBQ from their summer bucket list—drawn by whispers of a Texan-turned-World-champion who brought South Texas flavor to the Midwest. “We just had to try it,” one of them said, “after we heard he was one of ours.”
What makes it special? Simplicity, Blane says. “We took the Texas salt-and-pepper rub, and added depth from Midwest woods—wild cherry, hickory. We stay true to the craft but create flavors that make me happy.”
His BBQ boudin ball, a nod to his Gulf Coast upbringing, is a showstopper. A traditional coastal dish reinvented: rice, Trinity, and instead of pork innards, he uses smoked pork shoulder and BBQ sauce. One bite and you’re transported straight to the beach, but with Midwest precision.
From the Pitmaster’s Table to the Family Table
The hustle hasn’t slowed, but the focus has shifted. “The comp circuit took a lot of time away from life and family,” he says. “Now, I pour that energy into the restaurant—and into my people.”
And those people? They’re family. Literally.
“We shut down the restaurant this weekend so our whole team could attend my son’s graduation party,” Blane shares. “That’s what Porky Butts is—a family.”
He takes care of his team with bonuses, pool days, group meals, and even daily feedback surveys on shift experiences. “It’s not just about food,” he says. “It’s about treating people right—like my dad taught me.”
What’s Next?
While his competition schedule has slowed, Blane’s fire hasn’t. “We’re focused on refining operations and keeping our food affordable for working families who support us.”
When asked how he wants to be remembered, Blane doesn’t talk trophies. He talks people. “I want kids to scream, ‘I wanna eat at Porky Butts!’ when their parents ask what they want for dinner.”
National BBQ Day: A Time to Reflect
For Blane Hunter, National BBQ Day isn’t just a holiday—it’s a reminder. A reminder of nights spent tending fires with his dad. A reminder that barbecue, at its best, is about nourishing others—not just with food, but with love, time, and tradition.
“Barbecue is family,” Blane says. “It helped me bond with my father and my son. It taught me how to work with my wife. It brought amazing people into my life—and into yours, if you’re reading this.”
And maybe that’s what makes Texans so proud of Blane Hunter. He never forgot where he came from. He just brought it with him—every brisket, every beef rib, every story smoked into the bark.
Where There’s Smoke, There’s Family.
Blane Hunter. Son of Texas. King of the Midwest. Forever BBQ family.
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