Pork or beef, although I prefer pork for ribs. Many Texans will say they eschew pork in barbecue, but it still gets served, still gets eaten, and is still delicious. Actually, though, I don’t know how many of them will say “eschew.”
Beef, a very, very slow mesquite smoked dry rubbed brisket with suitable smoke ring. German style sausage also good. Chicken, occassionally. Sauce, a tangy tomato, mustard, garlic, onion, brown sugar, worcesteshire, chile powder and other undisclosed ingredient concocton, occassionally including beer, with consistency ranging from thick to thin. At least I think that’s what’s in it. Usually, asking what’s in the sauce will get you trown out of an establishment.
Sides should include pinto beans, cole slaw and potato salad. Also, you should be given several side items and condiments with no clear indication or instruction whatsoever on how to use them. These generally include a couple of slices of white bread, several crossways slices of white onion, some dill pickle slices, and some pickled jalapenos. It is up to the diner to figure out exactly how these items fit into the mix.
Now, I’m not going to be claim that Texas has a monopoly on good barbecue; other regional styles are also very, very good (e.g., pulled pork is awesome). However, I will strongly maintain that if you do not like Texas barbecue, you haven’t had it from the right place yet. For example, there is a wonderful little house in Hunstville, Texas owned by a local black church where some extremely elderly church ladies will give you some of the best barbecue you’ve ever had in your life. Watching them slowly, slowly, slowly get it to you is a wonderful way to spend several hours.