You might guess that Dine Quixote's favorite way of saving money is by bypassing turnpikes and their tollbooths in order to spend the money at family-owned or down-home purveyors of good eats on the backroads. And so it was a couple of weeks ago that I chose to travel US routes 422 and 19 instead of using the Ohio and Pennsylvania turnpikes to haul a soon-to-graduate college senior's belongings back to the small castle in Squirrel Hill.

Originally, I had planned to stop at an establishment touted, by many of you readers, for its chili dogs. But something got in the way: Jay's Famous Hot Dogs, located on 422 just outside of Youngstown. I'd promised my editor that I would pull back from sampling pups laden with spicy sauce, but in this case I saw a way to cheat. At the same locale, there was a sign announcing Mr. Arnold's Barbecue. And right there, jammed against the front of the building was a small barrel smoker and Mr. Arnold himself, a jovial guy tending the ribs and chickens.

So I put in my order for a couple of dogs with chili, mustard and onions, plus a quarter chicken (white meat) with fries.

And what came out were chili dogs with sauce that hinted of the gyros also served at Jay's, topped with onion that appeared to have been just chopped. Darn good, but the miracle appeared in a foam container lined with foil -- a moist, tender, smoky breast and wing combo sitting in the center of a mound of fresh fries and blanketed in spicy sweet barbecue sauce.

Though I often say that chicken is too dry, too tough, or too greasy to enjoy, this heavenly bird burst with rivulets of juice when stabbed with a plastic fork, a fork that also found no resistance when pulling apart the breast.

I got to talking to the pit master, Mr. Arnold, and learned that he had been there only a month, having moved on from Grand Rapids, Mich. We shared conversation, as people say, and it turns out that we both favored the same barbecue joint in Muskegon, Mich., an emporium known as Brutus Barbecue.

One of the strange forces that Dine Quixote has come to respect in our complex world is something called "divine mischief."

If you don't believe in predestination or you think life is a bit too complex for coincidence, then this might be the way of defining all of those happenings that appear just too good to be true. (Of course I always pray to a god of parking and nine times out of 10, there is a space for me.)

Lots of stories here, like the one where I was sitting with Sherri Panza at a cafe in Tel Aviv and our old rabbi from Troy, N.Y., walks by leading a tour group.

Or the one that happened on this same money-saving trip to Ohio to pick up my daughter. Or, I should say, on the way back to Pittsburgh that same afternoon.

Still sated with chili dogs and barbecued chicken courtesy of Jay and Mr. Arnold, where we'd stopped just an hour earlier, I came through New Castle on Route 60 and swung back onto 422. Bang, on my right, a sight out of the South, Fat Jimmy's BBQ. Low slung, bunch of picnic tables, with the traditional pig on the sign.

I was jumping out of the car before Sherri could get her door open. "Can you go another round?" I yelled to her, only to hear an 'I'm full' from our youngest daughter. Her words say full, but her eyes say yum. I thought as la Panza ruffled the dollars to see if we could cover a second full lunch.

And a full lunch it turned out to be. Fat Jimmy's has pulled pork and brisket between buns or, for a few cents less, sitting open-faced on Texas toast. The place has chicken. Italian beef reminiscent of Chicago. And chili.

Choosing pulled pork on Texas toast with coleslaw and onion rings, and brisket riding the toast along with french fries and chili, could not have been an easier choice.

Perhaps old Dine should have asked a few more questions, but it has been said that I can get sparks from a knife and fork and to tell the truth, I wanted to EAT. The pig sign, the flashy pig T-shirts, the ceramic pig on the floor, the large and husky nature of the other customers all were yelling "REAL 'CUE."

The pulled pork came with an apology -- that the brisket would not be ready for another 20 minutes. I said, "I will not be swayed," and began nibbling and anticipating. The pork came in large chunks with bits of crisp, crackling skin. Soft and moist, the meat yielded to my tongue anointed only with a few drops of hot sauce.

Over-saucing is a no-no at Fat Jimmy's. According to the menu, the meats are given a rub, then smoked and lightly glazed with a sauce. And that's all you need. The pork carried overtones of smoke set off by coleslaw that was just the sour side of raw cabbage and a perfect foil for rich pig meat. The onion rings were crisp, grease-free, but more or less only along for the ride.

I took a few gulps of soda and, finally, the waitress appeared carrying the beef and placed it royally before me.

Rarely surprised, I was awestruck by the pile of sliced brisket surfing the plate on a raft of toast and backstopped by a small mountain of fries. The chili, definitely not Texas-style since it was rich and beany, I'd already enjoyed as an appetizer.

Then it was time for brisket. Forgetting both my family and my manners, I grabbed a slice with my fingers and deposited it on my waiting tongue. Soft, but not mushy. Smoky but not dry, lightly spicy from the rub and the glazing of sauce.

This is a fantasy barbecue joint a whole heck of a lot closer to home than Kansas City or Driftwood, Texas. I knew that I had a place to escape to on Saturdays.

And on my next swing to Ohio, the warmer weather will give me the chance to set up camp at one of the tables in the parking lot.

If you go

Jay's Famous Hot Dogs

745 McCartney Road (Route 422 at Keystone Ave., just east of Youngstown (There are two other locations in the Youngstown area)

Youngstown, Ohio

Hours: 11 a.m.-8:30 p.m. Mon.-Sat., 11 a.m.-4:30 p.m.

1-330-746-8300

Fat Jimmy's BBQ

Owned and operated since April 2008 by Jim and Kathy Davidson

2612 New Butler Road (Route 422 just east of where Business Route 422 starts)

New Castle, Pa.(Shenango Township)

Hours Mon.-Tues. 5 a.m. to 3:30 p.m., Weds.-Fri. 5 a.m.-9 p.m.; Sat. 6:30 a.m.-9 p.m.; Sun. 6:30 a.m.-2 p.m.

724-598-3500