Apparently, you can tell a lot about a ribs and pork place just by their spelling choices: is it BBQ, barbecue, or bar-b-que? Or is it Bar-BQ? Legend has it that spelling is somehow related to culinary provenance, that paying attention to barbecue versus bar-b-que indicates whether the food in question is Texas chow, Kansas City or Memphis ribs, or even the vinegar-based pulled pork dishes found across the Carolinas. Then, depending on where you’re from, there’s another layer of complexity: a BBQ to some people is not a type of food at all, but an event - that is, a cookout. For Daisy May’s BBQ USA, a growing constellation of carts loosely tethered to a mothership on 11th Avenue in midtown, it’s a little bit of both.

Its head chef and founder, Adam Perry Lang, is a former chef whose resume is more haute sauce than hot sauce, with gigs at three of Manhattan’s most upscale restaurants: Daniel, Chanterelle, and Le Cirque. The attention to fine detail that he developed over his career comes across loud and clear in his cooking at Daisy May’s, where all meat is cooked in an open pit and watched fastidiously to insure that everything is smoked to perfection. All of this makes a trip to Daisy May’s a study in both obsession and authenticity, as I discovered as I tasted my way through their menu over the course of several visits in the past few weeks.

The Carolina Pulled Pork BBQ Sandwich ($9) comes on a toasted sesame-seed bun and is topped with a layer of carrots, coleslaw and cabbage. The sauce is tart and redolent of mild vinegar, and the rough pieces of shredded pork are sweet and oven-hot. However good it may be, the pork sandwich is perhaps Daisy May’s messiest option, so grab extra napkins. Let me repeat that: grab extra napkins! The bun will be soggy toward the end (i.e. not much help), and the sauce gets, well… absolutely everywhere.

The ‘Texas Chopped Beef Brisket’ sandwich ($9.50) arrives with meat that is so tender it falls apart as you eat it, its sauce sweet, with hints of molasses. Bought from one of Daisy May’s carts, the sandwich is served deconstructed into its various components: a sesame seed bun (untoasted, but not cold), pickles, diced red onion, and a plastic tub of hot brisket ready to be spread out over the bun. This is done to keep the hot elements hot and cool elements cool, and although they don’t serve it from the carts, it would be excellent with a cold beer.

Daisy May’s chili ($7) is no less satisfying than the brisket, which makes sense, as they share the same meat. Billed as a ‘bowl o’ red’, this is Texas-style chili par exellence, with red pepper and cumin in a sauce loaded with black beans, surrounding generous chunks of fall-apart-on-your-fork brisket. And like the sandwich, the chili is interactive: customers at the cart get separate packets of cheddar cheese shavings and red onion for mixing in the cup, as well as soft tortillas to mop up whatever you can’t get with the plastic spoon.

Daisy May’s also has Kansas City and Memphis style ribs ($11.50 for a half rack, $23 for a full rack) that are thick and juicy, and sold unapologetically with all of their unhealthy-but-delicious pork fat intact. My half order of Kansas City ribs was more food than even I could handle–although I certainly gave it a try after falling in love with its lush meaty flavor, and sticky sauce. Once again, this is not a dainty meal. Napkins will help, as will healthy sips of Daisy May’s sweet tea ($3.50), a powerfully sweet, yet addictive mint tea, garnished with a small bunch of fresh mint leaves floating at the top of a 32 oz (yes, that’s one quart) Mason jar that becomes your dinner souvenir (and that’s great, because empty Mason jars with screw-on lids are perfect for mixing salad dressings).

For some aficionados however, the real status of a barbecue joint is revealed in the quality of its sides, and it’s here that Daisy May’s is a bit more uneven. An order of mashed potatoes ($3.50 for a small portion) comes without its advertised bits of spud skin and is overwhelmed by an oily layer of melted cheddar cheese. A small side of rice and beans, a bargain from the cart at $1, has good flavor but is more akin to Popeye’s style ‘dirty rice’ than proper rice and beans. The 11th Avenue location has more choices for what Daisy May’s calls ‘fixins’’ that look a good deal better, including baked beans, creamed corn and spinach, coleslaw and cornbread.

Another reason for visiting the midtown HQ is their new dining room, which opened just last month. Looking like a cross between a Finnish sauna and a campground mess hall, what it lacks in atmosphere is made up for by convenience. The restaurant has also extended its opening hours to 10 p.m. most nights and is now open on weekends. No longer do you have to eat outside or hurry home hoping your barbecue stays warm until you can eat it–now you can cover yourself in barbecue sauce and bits of napkin and let someone else hose the room down afterwards.

Daisy May’s BBQ USA 623 11th Avenue (at 46th Street), 212 977-1500. Carts are located at Wall Street in front of Federal Hall, 49th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues, and 47th Street between Park and Lexington Avenues.