The Barnyard sounds like that neighbor who’s always got the game on the radio and a fire going out back. It’s a voice with sawdust on its boots and a handshake that actually means something. No fancy sales pitches here, just the simple language of wood smoke, cast iron, and the crack of a bat. It’s warm, a little rugged, and feels less like a business and more like a friend calling you over because the grill is hot and the bases are loaded.