Just a Pinch of South

spencerlewis:

The Map of American BBQ according to Texas Monthly

Ugh. Texans.

Sigh.

I spent this past weekend with college friends in North Carolina. I used this as a perfect excuse to stop for barbecue along the way. I chose a slight detour to an Albermarle, NC institution called Whispering Pines just a few miles from my intended route.

Like all BBQ joints, it’s not much to look at. I sat inside at the counter, and it wasn’t but a few minutes till this gentleman and I struck up a conversation. Turns out he’s a farmer with 400 acres of land. I noticed he is missing a finger on his left hand which I am guessing this came from some sort of bailing accident years ago. He told me he’d bailed 4 acres of hay that day.  Is that a lot? A little? I told him I was a city girl who didn’t know much about farming. I allowed that I was from Atlanta, but I live in New York City.

That’s when some of the other restaurant patrons jumped in. We all got to talking so that I had trouble taking my leave after I had consumed my pulled pork, hush puppies, and Cheerwine. From traffic to crime to the Statue of Liberty, we covered a lot of ground. Of course the farmer did ask me, “What possessed you to leave North Carolina,” (because I had gone to Duke), “and move up there? What’s so great about New York City?”

Well, if you have to ask, then my answer probably isn’t going to ever satisfy you.

Of course, as great as New York is, I must admit you don’t ever encounter nine-fingered hay farmers in the big city. Nor can you find Cheerwine. Or such friendly company. I give Whispering Pines high marks in all departments.

But like the farmer said to me about New York, I’ll say about Albermarle. A nice place to visit, but I’m can’t imagine living there.

Four things that make North Carolina particularly great.

Sweet, Spicy, Savory, Rich.

from bryanreganphotography:

Don’t even think I wouldn’t try this. Because I would. And it is probably very high in awesomeness. The hand-written nature of the label makes it all the more likely that I would douse my ‘cue in it. No butts about it.

Thanks to @unquieted for the pic from The Humble Pig.

Old Brick Pit #barbq #barbecue #bbq #restaurant #sign #atlanta #georgia

I’m not sure anyone likes coleslaw as a kid. It’s kind of a weird dish with strong flavors and textures. Not kid-friendly.

And there are lots of variations. From coarsely cut red cabbage lightly dressed, to the finely chopped and very mayonnaisey variety. It can be rather sweet, or tart, crunchy or soft. When someone says “slaw,” and by the way Southerners rarely say, “coleslaw,” you just don’t know exactly what they mean.

To this day I never eat it on its own. They even serve slaw at several New York City delis as something that comes automatically with your meal. No thanks.

But slaw is magically transformed when it goes on top of pork. It becomes the ying to the yang of the meat. Slaw adds crunch to soft pulled pork; it gives coolness and mildness to the heat of the barbecue spices. Without it, a pulled pork sandwich doesn’t feel complete. Same thing for a chili cheese slaw dog (like what you’d get at The Varsity). It makes something great into something wonderful.

I know there are a lot of skeptics out there when it comes to coleslaw and barbecue. I get it. I really do. But sometimes the whole is more than the sum of its parts.

(Source: southernpartofheaven, via lifeofhunt)

Georgia doesn’t have a distinctive barbecue. It’s a little something of a mutt. It is usually similar to North Carolina, in that it uses a thin vinegar sauce, but the meat is drier and a plate doesn’t come with hush puppies. But that’s not always true.

I don’t know why Georgia never developed a uniform style of BBQ.

That’s not to say Georgia barbecue isn’t good. It can be very good. But BBQ in GA can be a little inconsistent depending on what you like. If you haven’t visited the restaurant, or had very specific instruction, you may find the style isn’t to your liking. The good news is, you can get all different varieties in Georgia without feeling shame. It’d be embarrassing to ask for Texas or Memphis style in North Carolina. Trust me.

tumbledownsouth:

BBQ in Ellijay, GA. January 2011

People don’t get putting slaw on barbecue. That’s what you do with North Carolina BBQ and it is always right.

Do you get putting lettuce on a burger? Do you get putting saurkraut on a rueben? It’s the same concept.

It’s simple. The crunch of the cabbage and the tartness of the vinegar balance the pungent strength of the meat. It’s a beautiful balance. Trust people who know. Put cole slaw on your bbq. Even if you don’t “like” slaw. What you get at a barbecue joint isn’t very mayonnaise-y. It’ll be great. Trust us.

(Source: penniesinmyloafers)

A thing of beauty to behold. Mmm hush puppies…

Before all you non-Southerners get all judge-y and talk about Paula Deen and morbid obesity because of Southern cooking please remember that this cuisine originated where people worked in fields all day burning thousands of calories and they would come home to un-air-conditioned houses, where they would burn calories even as they slept (and sweat).

The problem is eating like this every day if we drive our cars two blocks to the store and if we leave the a/c set at 69 degrees in August and never leave  the house except to go “set” in a swimming pool.

(Source: wonderfulmachine, via in-north-carolina)

Let’s talk nomenclature. A Southerner would refer to the above as a “cookout” and only a “cookout.” This is not a barbeque, despite the words on this advertisement.

A barbeque involves a pig cooking all day and is not something just a mom and dad undertake for a summer dinner. Frankly, it’s something to outsource. It’s that involved.

A cookout just takes a grill, burgers, hot dogs, or, if you’re fancy, steaks. I mean, don’t get me wrong. You can have a very fancy cookout (she’s got kabobs in this picture), but it will never be a barbecue.

A friend and new resident of the South recently encountered this confusion when inviting some college students to “a barbeque” and they were disappointed to find it was “just a cookout.” Some actually left! Come on, Southerners, where’s your famous politeness?

But, I gotta say, the Southern definitions are much more accurate.

(via atomiccabana-deactivated2011100)

I was recently called out by my friend Carter that I posted a BBQ pic from a chain of mediocre restaurants in Texas. I just liked the photo. Here’s another one I like, but clearly this is a local joint.

That, of course, is what one is always seeking in a BBQ joint. A little hole in the wall that not everyone knows about where they maybe have a secret to their recipe and love what they do. It’s not fancy food. It’s basic and simple and delicious.

route11vintage:

BarBQ 8x10 print @ http://www.etsy.com/shop/jbraz78

(via spencerlewis)

Bar-B-Q did not come from the North. Did it?

You’re welcome.