Porky’s Pulpit: Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Barbecue

Today is Memorial Day, a day set aside to remember fallen military heroes who gave their lives trying to protect the American way of life (and to find great deals on new cars, household goods, and other manifestations of consumerism runk amok, ahem, the American way of life).  Yet despite the heroic efforts of generations of brave men and women, one of America’s proudest institutions is under attack.  Indeed, like so many great American traditions before it–sex, drugs and rock & roll, to name only a few–barbecue is continuously affronted by the nattering na(shish-ka)bobs of negativism.

Every week my email inbox is filled with anti-barbecue propaganda, ranging from basically benign barbs to maliciously malignant missives.  Among the attacks I’ve seen on the great American institution, in the past week alone, are:

-On the benign side, confidence-suppressing articles about dealing with problems like “improper flaming” and other possible afflictions of the grill.  Not since Viagra ads first hit the airwaves have America’s charcoal-wielding men had such cause for performance anxiety.

Articles about barbecue’s supposed role in the epidemic of obesity plaguing our nation’s collective midsection.

-News reports that imply barbecue may lead to incidents of violent crime and even natural disasters.

-Malignant stories discussing barbecue’s supposed link to, well, cancer; anyone want to learn about “7 Ways to Cancer-Proof Your Barbecue”?

-The burden placed on barbecue to solve America’s ongoing economic woes and rebuild its diplomatic ties at the highest levels.

-Common dangers, such as household fires, tenuously linked to barbecuing and played up for maximum dramatic effect on barbecue-friendly occasions like Memorial Day and Independence Day.  Even in BBQ strongholds like West Texas, the BBQ-baiting media have tracked down otherwise self-respecting firefighters who “are sending out a warning [that barbecue] might not be worth the risk.”  As current West Odessa Volunteer Fire Chief, and possible Past-President of the West Texas Brussel Sprouts Defense League, Jimmy Ellis put it in the same article, “One spark and the whole city could go up like a keg of dynamite.”  Humph.

-Lest the above dynamite-level dangers not be enough, other alarmists warn of the risk of contracting trichinosis and other food-borne illnesses.  Luckily, in a rare act of bravery, the USDA recently released updated guidelines on cooking meat, and finally admitted that cooking pork to 145 degrees is sufficiently safe (as tenderloin lovers have known for decades).

As if the above affronts on America’s barbecue tradition were not enough, the Al Gore set has devoted a disproportionate amount of effort to pin the future collapse of the earth’s ecosystems on barbecue.  Indeed, it appears that barbecue is now THE grease-stained culprit of global warming. “Are barbecue grills destroying the planet?,” asks an article in the May 27th issue of The Week, just the most recent in a series of attempts to make backyard pit bosses feel as guilty as possible for their selfless act of smoking meat instead of gassing it or, lord forbid, torturing it in an electric oven.

Finally, the forces of evil have stepped up their efforts to challenge the most fundamental of American barbecue values: the near-biblical truth that barbecue is by definition meat.  Indeed, masochistic vegetarians across the country write morally bankrupt drivel like this piece that tries to nudge meat aside and claim a spot on the Weber for veggies (it is consoling that the folks in the picture that runs with the article look famine-stricken and sport forced smiles that quietly scream, “For God’s sake, let me trade this pink polo shirt for a slab of ribs”).

While vegetarians take pains to inflate their bloated self-worth, and to maintain their emaciated figures, by choking down Bulgur Veggie Burgers with Lime Mayonnaise and the like, I’m sticking up for the American way.  I’ll be out back on my flammable wood deck cooking up some carbon-heavy, cancer-inducing pork butt to serve with bacon-flavored greens and calorie-full hush puppies.  After all, it’s Memorial Day and I think that our fallen heroes would have it no other way.

Porky’s Pulpit: Rapture is a Good Plate of Barbecue

I am writing this post on Friday night in case rapture comes on Saturday as predicted. If you are reading this post on Monday when I scheduled it to run then there are three possible explanations: 1. the rapture did not happen and the prophets of doom were wrong, or at least off by a week or two (stay tuned); 2. you are a sinner and were Left Behind, yet still have access to a high speed Internet connection (poached from a believer, perhaps?); 3. you have been saved and the Big Man Upstairs has rewarded you with your own iPhone (reception is good in the clouds even for AT&T users).

As for me, as a BBQ Jew I am not sure how the lord will regard me on judgment day, but if I make it through unscathed then I think I’ll celebrate with a chopped plate of ‘cue.  Well, as long as there are still some pitmasters left to cook for me, since I expect they will be saved from this earth before the rest of us.

Porky’s Pulpit: Frozen Pig Semen

I received my new, free subsription to Pork Magazine this week.  In case you are among the remaining few who don’t subscribe to this trade journal, it proclaims itself, “The Business Magazine for Professional Pork Producers,” and who am I to disagee with such a specific claim?  Speaking of pork production, evidently pigs do not reproduce through mitosis.   Indeed, here is a photo of the disturbing full page advertisement that graces the inside cover of the May 2011 issue of Pork Magazine:

AMG OMG!

AMG catheters: “Undisputedly, the world’s finest catheter for frozen semen.”  Again, I will not argue with such a specific claim (though I did look up undisputedly online and discovered it is, indisputedly, a real word). Yet all of a sudden my quaint childhood dreams of being a farmer are gone–gone like a semen snow covered evergreen. 

Porky’s Pulpit: Signs of Senility

On Monday I received the disturbing email below, from Brenae “Iron Deficiency is Worse Than LSD” Leary, who was writing to alert me about the AARP’s promotion of Meatless Mondays.  Needless to say the BBQJew.com editorial staff has about as much tolerance of Meatless Mondays propagandists as it has sympathy for Osama Bin Laden. 

Hi, Porky—

AARP.org shares these warm and comforting meat-free recommendations to help you start your week on a healthy note.

Breakfast: Apple Muffins– These easy and inexpensive muffins take less than an hour…

Lunch: Miso-Spiked Vegetable Soup With Barley– Miso is a traditional Japanese paste made of fermented soy beans, rice or barley…

Dinner: Gruyere Tart– Serve this savory tart with a side of green salad…

Feel free to share with your readers with a link!

Best,
Brenae

The fact that the AARP is touting the virtues of Meatless Mondays only confirms my assumptions about the elderly: they are confused, senile, anemic, grumpy, and generally not to be counted on for anything more than incoherent stories about days long ago and events long since forgotten. 

In fairness, I understand why the denture-wearing seniors of AARP would struggle to gnaw the meat off of a Kansas City rib, but don’t they realize that you can gum North Carolina barbecue if need be?  In my opinion, Meatless Mondays are an unnecessary distraction for North Carolina seniors and it’s unfortunate that the AARP is attempting to deceive its gullible membership.

Porky’s Pulpit: To Judge or Not to Judge

On Saturday I had the once-in-a-lifetime experience of judging my first officially sanctioned barbecue competition.  I was one of an elite few hand-selected judges (okay, actually one of 54 judges and I had practically begged for the opportunity) at the first annual BBQ Capital Cook-off in Lexington, NC. 

The event drew more than 50 teams from across the southeast, including a half dozen or so from the Lexington area.  Under the rules of Kansas City Barbeque Society (KCBS) sanctioned events, the teams competed across four categories: chicken, pork ribs, pork butt/shoulder and beef brisket.  Prizes were awarded for the grand champion, the best cumulative score across the four categories, as well as category-specific winners.  If you actually care about the details of the event, including who won, read this article.

I thoroughly enjoyed the judging experience, especially meeting a bunch of friendly and dedicated barbecue enthusiasts.  It’s definitely a different world out there on the “barbecue trail,” as members of the BBQ competition tribe call it, and I enjoyed being let into the world for a few hours.  I was among the younger judges, but it was a more diverse group than I expected: quite a few women, not all of whom were dragged there by their spouses, as well as people from as far away as Alabama and even, gulp, San Francisco.  There was a real sense of camraderie among the judges and other volunteers; one big, smoked meat loving family. From what little I observed of the teams competing, the camraderie is equally strong among cooking teams.

Despite the good time I had, I am not yet a competitive BBQ convert.  But it’s not because of the quality of the food.  The 24 samples I tried (six in each of the four categories, per KCBS judging protocol) were as a whole excellent–most were better than good restaurant barbecue and some were exceptionally good, with just a few subpar.  Plus, I wholeheartedly support the KCBS focus on wood-cooked barbecue, as gas and electric cookers are banned.  Yet I don’t quite buy into the concept of turning barbecue–which to me is all about enjoying oneself among friends in a laidback atmosphere–into a competition governed by a myriad of bureaucratic rules (e.g., a strict policy of disqualification for entries featuring garnishes other than green leaf lettuce, parsley or cilantro).  It’s not that I begrudge anyone the thrill of competing, but I’m not sure it is the scene for me.  On the other hand, I sure do like getting the opportunity to sample a bunch of delicious barbecue so I’m not ruling out giving judging another shot…

Porky’s Pulpit: Now You’re Cooking with Gas

The phrase “now you’re cooking with gas” dates back at least to the 1940s, when advertisements used the tagline to tout the performance of gas stoves, and likely earlier.  By the 1940s, gas ranges had been around for decades and had supplanted wood stoves in urban areas but were being challenged by a new competitor–the electric range.  In North Carolina, of course, “now you’re cooking with gas (or electricity)” is not something to be proud of when your cooking barbecue.  But when the gas with which you’re cooking barbecue comes from North Carolina, it’s newsworthy.

According to a story on WRAL News, Patterson Exploration Services of Sanford operates North Carolina’s only natural gas well in nearby Chatham County.   On Saturday, a group of scientists and others celebrated with a barbecue.  As the WRAL reporter points out, “for the first time in history this is pork cooked with North Carolina gas.”  Personally, I’d rather have been around to enjoy the first time pork was cooked with North Carolina hickory wood, but this is one of those rare occasions when cooking pork with gas seems like a pretty good idea.

Porky’s Pulpit: ACC BBQ Power Rankings, Part II

In case you missed it, on Friday (well past tip off time) I posted the historical ACC BBQ Power Rankings.  Today I present the ACC BBQ Power Rankings based on modern day BBQ culture in and around each of the ACC schools.

1. Wake ForestWake is located in Winston-Salem, which has a couple of traditional pit cooked restaurants within the city limits. More to the point, Wake is just a long 3-pointer away from Lexington, Salisbury and other barbecue holy ground. That’s enough to earn it top place in my book. 

2. Carolina – Chapel Hill has a fairly well-deserved reputation as a yuppie, yankee town. Most of the residents of Chapel Hill wouldn’t know good barbecue if it walked right up to them and introduced itself.  Still, Chapel Hill is home to Allen & Son, absolutely one of the best barbecue joints anywhere.  Allen’s is to Chapel Hill what Michael Jordan is to Carolina–a living legend. 

3. NC State  – Raleigh is a surprisingly weak barbecue town given it’s the capital and contains lots of native North Carolinians.  Still, it has enough barbecue culture to rank third in the ACC, a weak conference for barbecue these days.

4. Clemson – I have never been to Clemson, but it is the only current ACC school in South Carolina (the University of South Carolina was a founding member of the ACC).  Although I am biased against the state of South Carolina for no particular reason other than my birthplace one state north, I concede that SC has a solid barbecue culture.  Enjoy my generosity, Clemson fans.

5. Duke – Durham has a good deal of barbecue tradition, with its tobacco heritage. However, the barbecue culture in Durham is nothing special. There are a couple of decent BBQ joints and that’s about it. But in the ACC, that’s enough for a 5 seed.

6. Georgia Tech – Like I said on Friday, Atlanta is a big, new south city where sushi is as common as barbecue. But there are lots of barbecue joints in and around Atlanta, not to mention the rest of Georgia.  Anywhere that has that much slow-cooked pork deserves to be in the top half of the conference.

7. University of Virginia – Despite the state’s proud barbecue history, Virginia’s present day barbecue culture is pretty pathetic. Sure, Smithfield hams are good, but that ain’t barbecue.

8. Florida State – Tallahassee is the state capital and surely some of those high cholesterol legislators eat barbecue, right?  At least ribs?

9. Virginia Tech – I don’t know if there even is a barbecue joint in Blacksburg. If so, it probably isn’t any good.

10. University of Miami – When you spend so much time on the beach (or walking down the street) in a swimsuit, barbecue doesn’t stand a chance.  But at least Miami students can drive a little ways outside of the city and track down some southern culture.

11. Maryland – Maryland is arguably more southern than much of Florida. But College Park is not.

12. Boston College – I checked a map today and Boston College remains in Boston (well, Chestnut Hill but close enough).

Porky’s Pulpit: ACC BBQ Power Rankings, Part I

As you may have noticed if you’re not in a pork-induced coma, it’s the weekend of the ACC Tournament.  In my humble opinion, this weekend is one of the best of the year to be a North Carolinian.  With that in mind, I present to you a two part series ranking ACC schools based solely on barbecue. On Monday, I’ll provide an ACC barbecue power rankings based on the present day barbecue culture, but today I focus on ranking ACC schools based on barbecue history.

ACC BBQ POWER RANKINGS – HISTORICAL DATA
1. Carolina
 – UNC is the oldest public university in the country and is located in the center of the state, midway between downeast barbecue strongholds and Lexington-style country.  Sure, Chapel Hill itself has no real barbecue tradition, but you can bet your baby blue best that the students who attended Carolina from the early days on knew a thing or two about ‘cue. 

2. University of Virginia –  A surprise second place finish on a website devoted to North Carolina barbecue? Not really. What we now think of as NC BBQ originated in colonial days in Virginia, where pork cooked over an open pit and served with vinegar thrived for many years. Virginia is more of a country ham state nowadays, but it’s barbecue roots are deep.

3. NC State  – Needless to say, the state of North Carolina has a rich barbecue past and present. However, none of the ACC schools in North Carolina are really barbecue towns. Historically speaking, Raleigh-based NC State gets the nod. Raleigh has been the capital for a right long time and politics and barbecue have been intertwined since the dawn of time (or politics, whichever came first).

4. Duke – Sure, Duke kids are mostly from the northeast, but Duke is in Durham. Durham, of course, was a huge tobacco manufacturing town from the mid-19th century until recently. What two things are intertwined as closely as barbecue and politics? Barbecue and tobacco.  Any town that has a long history of tobacco auctions has a long tradition of barbecue.

5. Wake Forest – Okay, so Wake Forest has not been in Winston-Salem for long.  But Winston-Salem itself is a tobacco town (see above) and is near the heart of Lexington-style barbecue country.  I’d rank Wake above Duke if it had been located in Winston-Salem a little longer.

6. Georgia Tech – Atlanta is a big, new south city these days where sushi is as common as barbecue. But Atlanta, and the rest of Georgia, has plenty of barbecue history. Or so I’m told by Georgians.

7. Clemson – Why rank Georgia Tech ahead of Clemson given all the barbecue culture in South Carolina. Well, the short answer is that I’m from North Carolina so always treat South Carolina and its people unfairly.

8. Virginia Tech – As far as I know, Blacksburg VA, nestled in the mountains, has little to no barbecue tradition. But at least it’s in Virginia (see #2 above).

9. Florida State – Floridians think they have barbecue tradition. Florida is southern after all, and Tallahassee is the state capital.  That’s enough for #9 in my book.

10. University of Miami – Technically speaking, Miami is in Florida.  And technically Florida is in the south. Beyond that, Miami doesn’t have much going for it, barbecue-wise.  Plus, the University is really in Coral Gables.

11. Maryland – Have you ever been to College Park?  People have eaten barbecue in Washington, D.C. for a long time and College Park is just a few miles away.  But like I said, have you ever been to College Park?

12. Boston College – As far as I know Boston College has always been located in Boston. If that is incorrect please let me know. (Okay, so I stand corrected, it is now in Chestnut Hill, but close enough.)

Porky’s Pulpit: Sauce Bottle Etiquette

Shake it!

Inevitably newcomers to the world of North Carolina barbecue, and even seasoned veterans, encounter the following dilemma: the bottle of sauce on the table has a pour spout that doesn’t allow shaking without spilling, and putting a finger over the spout seems uncouth. 

Why not just pour the sauce without shaking?  Well, the signature element of traditional NC BBQ sauce is the hot pepper flakes and (sometimes) other spices mixed into the vinegar that is sauce’s primary ingredient.  Unfortunately, spices settle at the bottom of the bottle rather than floating up top where they could pour out easily.*  How should a BBQ eater pour sauce so that spices come out along with vinegar?  Shake it, of course, but how?

To shake a “classic” NC BBQ sauce bottle (like the one pictured to the left…roughly), you have two standard options: shake the bottle without covering the spout at the risk of spraying vinegar on yourself and those in your vicinity, or put your grubby finger directly over the spout and risk spreading germs or offending those watching you.  Luckily, the sophisticated BBQ eater has other options:

1) Remove the spout from the bottle and shake it freely, giving everyone around you a vinegar shower. What could be better than being covered in barbecue sauce?

2) Put your grubby finger over the spout and shake, shake, shake to your heart’s content. Remind anyone who glares at you that vinegar is a pretty good disinfectant.

3) If you want to be classy for a change, pick up a napkin (a clean one, you lout!) and place it over the spout before shaking.

4) For a higher degree of difficulty than the napkin trick, use a clean teaspoon to cover the spout when shaking the bottle. The teaspoon trick is not a 100% effective splash control method but avoids the potentially embarrassing issue of bits of napkin getting stuck to the spout.

5) Eat your barbecue without sauce. Everyone should eat barbecue completely unadorned from time to time.

*Note that this issue is more common in Eastern North Carolina but occurs in joints serving Lexington-style ‘cue too.

Porky’s Pulpit: There Oughta Be a Law

I will vote for any candidate for national office who proposes a law banning use of the word “barbecue” in contexts like this: