Porky’s Pulpit: Blueprint for a Barbecue Museum

The unmistakable smell of pork cooking low and slow over hickory coals hits you as you pull into the parking lot.  It’s certainly the first time you’ve salivated on the way to a museum.  But this is no ordinary museum and it’s okay to drool.  You are about to visit The Museum of North Carolina Barbecue.  You stride swiftly from your car toward the museum’s front door, growing more eager to see what’s inside with each step you take.  You pull the door open and… you wake up and realize it was a all a dream.  But it doesn’t have to be.

 A few weeks ago I wrote about the numerous museums in North Carolina, which celebrate everything from teapots to textiles.  Yet there is no barbecue museum in the state, and as far as I can tell there is no such museum anywhere. Not in Kansas City, not in Memphis, not in mutton-loving Owensboro and not even in that big ol’ overconfident state of Texas.  But why not in North Carolina?  After all, we have the nation’s longest continuous barbecue tradition and Continue reading

Preaching the Gospel

A little Monday morning inspiration…

Judge Ribs Not Lest Ye Ribs Be Judged

This past weekend I was lucky enough to help judge the Texas Pete Twin City RibFest in Winston-Salem.  Although ribs don’t hold a place of any real importance in North Carolina barbecue culture (sorry Rib Rabbi, but it’s true), I still didn’t hesitate to sign up when offered a coveted judge’s seat.  And the fact that 60 MPH winds and heavy downpours were forecast didn’t dampen my enthusiasm.  (Luckily, only the rains materialized while I was at the event.)  I was ready to make my first appearance as a bona fide, albeit not certified, barbecue judge.

Receiving instructions from festival organizer Allen McDavid (Photo by Ben "Boss Hog" Pressgrove)

I can attest that the six-person judges panel took its job as seriously as one would expect (i.e., at least somewhat seriously).  We were focused on the task at hand, especially since Ms. Texas Pete 2010 no-showed for her judges gig, leaving us menfolk with nothing to ogle besides the ribs on the table in front of us. 

Festival organizer Allen McDavid spent upwards of three minutes preparing us for our roles as judges.  He paced back and forth in front of the judge’s table and explained…  The ribs would be served one at a time on a numbered plate to protect their identity (lest any of the judges be on the take and working for a contestant).  Each rib was to be judged on four categories–taste, texture, tenderness and appearance.  Each category should be rated between 2 and 9, with 2 being the worst score we could dole out and 9 being the best.  (Apparently barbecue judges cannot count to 10.) A score of 1 would be assigned only if a contestant broke a rule related to the category, such as garnishing with something other than lettuce or parsley.   After tasting the first rib, we should write down our scores, take a drink of water to cleanse the palate, and wipe our hands if we so desired.  And then we were to taste, rinse, wipe and repeat until each contestant’s ribs were sampled.  

Nothing too it, right?  Anyone could be a barbecue judge.  Piece of cake.  Or so I thought until the tasting began.  Continue reading

Ooh…That Smell!

image by obswhatsinstore.blogspot.com

While Triangle residents have battled against digital billboards, the Charlotte-area now has a slighly more interactive kind of roadside sign: A scented one. 

Drivers in Mooresville, near Charlotte, are currently getting a whiff of hickory and steak, thanks to a Bloom supermarket billboard promoting a new kind of beef. With fans wafting its aromas 30 to 50 yards down to the roadside, sign maker ScentAir Technologies just might be onto something.

The news has even gone national and international. Of course, they have the wrong kind of meat.  

We here at BBQ Jew can’t help wondering what it would look like if this technology were applied to the sacred swine. For instance, as cars approached the hypothetical NC Barbecue Museum, a scented sign could signal your arrival.  

Then again, we’re prone to think that real wood-smoked barbecue needs no aromatic assistance. But, I’d enjoy having a ‘cue scent piped into my home (you can keep the billboard). And I’d even settle for barbecue poutpourri.

And yes, this post’s title is our first, but hopefully not last, Skynyrd reference.

Solving a Problem

I’ve been pondering ethical eating a bit, as rabbis are wont to do. Translation: I’ve been reading Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.

In an otherwise innocuous section on the loss of local food culture and food miles, Kingsolver shoots off this salvo:

Certainly, we still have regional specialties, but the Carolina barbecue will almost certainly have California tomatoes in its sauce (maybe also Nebraska fattened feedlot hogs).

With a stroke of the keyboard, Kingsolver attempts to end North Carolina’s whole East vs. West feud. Of course, by mentioning  tomatoes in the sauce–anathema to those closer to sea than mountain–she’s calling western ‘cue the real deal. She’s also alienating all of Eastern Carolina (let’s assume she’s not talking about South Carolina, because we’re provincial like that).

We tend to go heavier on the animal than the vegetable (image by Lloyd Crew)

Of course, more likely, Kingsolver just isn’t up-to-speed on the specifics. And she’s only a state away, in rural Virginia. But it’s much more fun to pretend otherwise.

And as for her parenthetical add-on, what a kick in the Smithfield! They may be feedlot hogs, but they’re our feedlot hogs! (Sigh)

Finally, if we ever write a book, we may have pilfer accordingly: Animal,Vinegar, Miracle.

Barbecue Museum

It’s no surprise that North Carolina has multiple art museums, history museums and children’s museums. Heck, we even have the Country Doctor Museum, not to be confused with the Mint Hill Country Doctor’s Museum, as well as the Railroad Museum, the Textile Heritage Museum, the Mountain Farm Museum, and the Scottish Tartans Museum.  Our state also features the Presidential Culinary Museum (in Grover, NC, also known as “The City that Never Sleeps Except at Night and Isn’t Really a City Anyway”).  Is that not enough for you?  We also have the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum, the Richard Petty Museum, the Sparta Teapot Museum, the JAARS Museum of the Alphabet, the NC School for the Deaf Historical Museum, and many more museums than you could ever imagine.

Yet North Carolina has not a single barbecue museum. Not one. Zilch.  This sad fact seems like a missed opportunity to me.  Stay tuned for a future post on what I think a BBQ Museum might include, what it should be called, where it should be located and, of course, who should operate its museum cafe.

Curle’s Cue

Walking into a complete stranger’s backyard and enjoying fine home-smoked pork is a tough assignment, but somebody has to do it. And we are those somebodies.

James Curle, savvy man that he is, regularly reads this here blog and thought he’d throw an invite our way to his sixth annual Curlefest. Porky and I, devoted bloggers, barbecue hounds and suckers for a free meal, were happy to oblige.

James Curle with his beloved

With the spell of the swine the only icebreaker we’d need, we were soon swapping tales and inspecting Curle’s ingenious temporary smoker that he adapted from the inimitable Holy Smoke. The best feature was the split top that slid apart to allow hog checking without losing too much heat.

And about that hog: Curle got a half hog from the Nahunta outlet at the Raleigh Farmer’s Market. After ten hours of smoking with good ol’ Kingston and a little kosher (l’chaim!) salt, the pork was ready. And was it ever.

Curle chopped and seasoned some swine, but graciously left a good amount on the smoker for picking. True to my name, I nabbed a rib or two and was not sorry I did.

Before the ‘cue, the event also included a diversionary cornhole tournament. The game Stephen Colbert called a “cross between horseshoes and sodomy” likely began as an attempt to distract attendees from the amazing, smokey aromas emanating from the pit (man I wish you could link to a smell). There was no distracting this rabbi of ribs.

By the time we left–greasy fingered–we weren’t exiting a stranger’s yard, but a newfound barbecue buddy’s. The pickin’ was a real example of ‘cue-aided community-building, as the event brought together neighbors, friends, congregants, co-workers, and, well, bloggers.

A final note: Curle wanted us to note that his dog is named Jerry, an allusion to jheri curls. Consider it done, James! And thanks very much for the hog and hospitality.

Garden & Gun & Swine

As summer beckons yet again, it’s the perfect time to read this article from Garden & Gun magazine, in case you missed it last year when it was published.  It’s one of the best written articles I’ve seen in terms of capturing the spirit of NC’s barbecue culture, and the accompanying photo gallery is outstanding.  The author takes us readers on an Eastern-style barbecue pilgrimmage, visiting places like Grady’s, the Skylight Inn and the Nahunta Pork Center.  Just to whet your appetite, here’s my favorite passage from the article:

“If you chase barbecue dreams, someday, somewhere you’ll find yourself this way, too, sitting on a rusty folding chair in a town you’d never driven through before, eating vinegar-drenched lukewarm meat and sweet fried hush puppies from a foam tray. There’s no music. There’s no beer. But you take another bite with your plastic fork and think, damn, this is good.”

Freaks of Nature

Photo by Vince Horn

Thanks to Eric, a sometimes vegetarian freak of nature himself, for tipping me off to this photo taken by a friend of his.  It’s not from North Carolina, clearly, but it’s pretty damn wonderful anyway.

This Wednesday: The Barbecue Sundae

I thought I’d seen it all until I saw this: the barbecue sundae.  Rest assured, this sundae doesn’t involve any chocolate syrup or chopped walnuts.  This sundae involves chopped pork and looks pretty damn good.  The sundae includes beans, ‘cue and slaw, and is served layered in a plastic cup.  I’m not sure how I feel about the beans but I like the sundae concept.  I wonder if substituting hushpuppies for beans would make this dish even better.  On the other hand, it’s hard to improve on the classic slaw-pork BBQ tray.  Still, off to my BBQ tasting lab to experiment…