Porky’s Pulpit: An Essay on the Origins of My Addiction

My name is Porky LeSwine and I am a barbeholic.

The barbecue version of the food pyramid.

Early Symptoms
Like most addictions, it all started out innocently enough. I grew up in Orange County not far up the road from Allen & Son. My folks took me there from time to time. Back then it was just a couple of times a year habit. I liked barbecue from the start but didn’t think much about it in between those occasional meals. It’s a couple decades later and I’ve now eaten enough barbecue that my cholesterol level can be measured from 100 yards away. How did I, an innocent kid who grew up eating just the occasional BBQ plate, turn into a bona fide barbecue junkie?

After continuing my occasional BBQ routine through high school I soon left North Carolina to attend college in Missouri. There are good ribs in St. Louis but nothing quite like NC barbecue, so I found myself fitting in a visit or two to Allen’s every time I returned home. Soon I was stopping at Allen’s on the way home before even arriving at my parents’ house. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Still, I remained just an occasional visitor to the Temple of Divine Swine, not a member of the congregation. 

Diagnosis
After college I worked a job that sent me on several day trips to Lexington, where I interviewed people about their experiences with… well, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I started my interviews by asking people where I should go for lunch. I was amazed at how varied and passionate their responses were. It seemed like everyone had an opinion and they took pride in sending me off the beaten path to the “little place down the road a bit.”

I knew Lexington was barbecue Mecca (or maybe Medina for those of you partial to the ‘cue served in the Eastern part of the state ), but I was shocked to discover that Lexington had over 20 barbecue joints for 20,000 people. At one joint for every 1,000 people, there may be more barbecue options per person in Lexington than there are physicians or churches. But who needs a physician when a chopped tray a day keeps the doctor away? And who needs church Continue reading

Porky’s Pulpit: Fighting Words

Ladies and gentleman, we have work to do.  How can we sleep at night when people are going around claiming this joke of a recipe is “North Carolina Style” barbecue sauce?  North Carolina has plenty of style and she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing this sauce.  The recipe, which author Jill says makes her “wanna learn to rope a calf” (good, because it ain’t fit for pork), is as follows:

2 each 32-ounce cans Italian plum tomatoes, chopped with juices
½ cup unsulfured molasses
½ cup honey
¼ cup tomato paste
2 tablespoons coarsely chopped garlic
2 bay leaves
2 tablespoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon cracked black pepper
1 ½ teaspoons crushed red pepper flakes, or to taste
2 cups water
1 1/3 cups cider vinegar (or to taste)
Salt, to taste

Italian plum tomatoes?  Bay leaves?  Garlic?  What in the name of Bob Garner is this nonsense?  Is this the Chef Boyardee recipe for NC-style barbecue sauce?  Did Jill get hit on the head with a pork shoulder?  She obviously doesn’t know NC-style barbecue sauce from a jar of Ragu.  It’s time we North Carolinian defenders of the divine swine rise up and protect our beloved state’s good name from the attacks of Jill and her ilk.  In other words, this aggression will not stand, man.

Porky’s Pulpit: “bbq pulled shreds” rant

I recently lived my nightmare.  I ate–“consumed” is a more appropriately clinical term given I did it only in the name of research–most of a package of “Certified Vegan” tofucue.  (You can pronounce that last word however you see fit.)  I will return to the scene of the crime soon to give you a full report on how this vile product tasted (preview: vile), but today’s post focuses on the packaging.

The Front of the Box
Where to begin?  Perhaps the name itself–“bbq pulled shreds.”  Shreds of what? Pulled what? And don’t think the small print “meat-free” above the word “bbq” gives me any comfort.  Plus, aren’t the words “pulled” and “shreds” redundant?

Was the budget too small to afford paying for capital letters on the packaging?  must every word be written in lower case like a jr high text msg? omg luv u tofu, lol!

Why do the words “contains no poultry” appear at the bottom of the picture?  You’ve already flaunted that you’re meat-free.  Is this small print poultry-free message supposed to make me happy?  Or is it an apology?  If so, why apologize simply that you’re poultry-free?  You look like you’re pretending Continue reading

Porky’s Pulpit: Barbecue “Evolution”

When the Private Equity Beat blog of the Wall Street Journal features a post about barbecue, it’s worth reading.  And they posted a good one toward the end of 2009.  In “Debating Evolution – Barbecue Evolution, That Is,” WSJ blogger Josh Beckerman, who admits he is no dyed-in-the-pig-wool barbecue fundamentalist, nonetheless takes a creationist-worthy stand against the so-called “evolution” of ‘cue. 

What has Beckerman riled up?  This press release entitled “The Barbecue Evolution” that was put out by a large company called Sadler’s.  The press release says, in part: “BBQ isn’t just for backyard parties anymore. Sophisticated barbecue was named a Top 10 Flavor Trend in 2009 by Flavor & The Menu and is predicted to go even more upscale with ethnic and regional flavors in 2010… .”

Beckerman responds to Sadler’s slick press release with fire and brimstone worthy of, well, a BBQ Jew, writing that he has no problem with the concept of mass-produced pit-smoked ‘cue but he’s “not so sure about brisket bow-tie pasta, one of the recipes – along with pulled pork Asian wraps and shaved pork quesadillas – that the company offers to ‘customers who want to experiment with upscale barbecue trends.'”  

He continues his sermon, offering, “Nor do we completely agree that ‘mango salsa or chipotle sauces are ideal compliments to the hardwood flavors of authentic, pit-smoked barbecue meats.’  Although fusion has its place in the world of food, we think barbecue may not be that place.” 

Preach it, Beckerman!

Porky’s Pulpit: New Year’s Resolutions

Before we get too deep into 2010, here are my personal (PER) and BBQ Jew related (BBQ) New Year’s resolutions:

PER 1) In order to protect the earth and preserve it for my children, I will cut down on my vehicle miles traveled.
BBQ 1) In order to protect the art of BBQ and preserve it for my children, I will drive farther to support traditional wood-cooked barbecue joints.

PER 2) I will spend more time with my family.
BBQ 2) I will find the time to write more Hogkus.   

PER 3) I will watch my diet, in order to cut calories and lose weight.
BBQ 3) I will try to eat barbecue on average at least once per week. 

PER 4) I will not make light of the swine flu.
BBQ 4) I will only eat dead swine, and will not kiss live swine, to avoid the swine flu.

I think that about covers it.

Porky’s Pulpit: Smokin’ at the Piggly Wiggly

recent story in the StarNews of Wilmington, NC notes that a local Piggly Wiggly has been slow cooking barbecue in house for more than a year.  The store is located in the small town of Leland, which is in Brunswick County (no relation to the stew) just outside of Wilmington.  According to the article, “Beef brisket, ribs, pulled pork, hams, chickens – the deli counter at this grocery store is a barbecue lover’s dream.”

Last year the Leland Piggly Wiggly paired with a Georgia company called SmokeRise.  According to the SmokeRise website, their “program” (ain’t that a clinical term?) is as follows:  “After a detailed, in store analysis, we recommend all items needed… to place a turnkey business in your location…  We also provide a complete, comprehensive training program to ensure your staff is fully trained in all processes of the business.” 

The SmokeRise-installed cooker at Piggly Wiggly is fueled by propane but uses real hickory logs, sort of a hybrid approach to cooking.  Although this is not quite the traditional art of barbecue, it sure sounds like a positive step compared to the pre-packaged swine-swill often sold at grocery stores.  That said, it does make me a little nervous to have the SmokeRise men marching from Georgia through North Carolina like long-lost members of Sherman’s army.

The critical question, of course, is how good does this Georgia barbecue invasion taste?  Well, let’s turn back to the StarNews, which reported positively on the barbecue produced in the Piggly Wiggly in a 2008 story.   At the time, the reporter said it changed her opinion of grocery store barbecue.  Being better than typical grocery store barbecue is a pretty low threshold to cross, but it’s something.  And it sure seems like it makes good business sense to offer decent ‘cue at a grocery store.

Porky’s Pulpit: Barbecue Ten Commandments

We all know that barbecue is akin to religion in North Carolina.  Because of this fact, it dawned on me that perhaps there are some ‘cue-related lessons to glean from religion. Today’s post focuses on barbecue-specific teachings of the ten commandments. (If I don’t get too many “burn in hell” comments from this attempt at humor, perhaps I will return to the subject another time.)

“I am the LORD your God.”  Lesson: If you’re having a whole hog pig pickin’, give Him first dibs on the ribs and tenderloin.

“Thou shalt have no other gods before me.” Lesson: To get the best parts of the pig, He must be first in line.

“Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD your God in vain.”  Lesson: Don’t be the guy who asks for unsweetened tea.

“Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” Lesson: Eat no barbecue on Sundays.

“Honor thy father and thy mother.” Lesson:  When they visit, show some respect and take them to a joint that still cooks over wood.

“Thou shalt not kill.” Lesson: No killing unless it’s a hog; mere mortals gotta eat.

“Thou shalt not commit adultery.” Lesson: At least pretend your spouse’s barbecue sauce recipe is the best.

“Thou shalt not steal.”  Lesson:  Pay at the counter like everyone else.

“Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.” Lesson:  Don’t make unfounded allegations about the quality of your neighbor’s barbecue, but if he’s cooking on a gas grill then the truth shall set him free.

“Thou shalt not covet…” Lesson: You can covet your neighbor’s barbecue, just don’t drool on his wife while standing in line for seconds.

Porky’s Pulpit: BBQ in my DNA

According to a recent story on NPR (National Piglet Radio?), the DNA of the domesticated pig has been sequenced.  The NPR report notes that, “The sequence comes from a single pig, formally known as UIUC 2-14, although she’s also called TJ Tabasco.”  Texas Pete would have been a far more respectable name for a pig, but the research is impressive nevertheless. 

Of surprise to the researchers, but not to anyone who has ever fallen in love with a perfectly prepared BBQ tray,  was the finding that the pig’s genome structure and sequence is very similar to that of a human.  Besides bothering folks who don’t believe in evolution (and opening the door to various Jesse Helms jokes), this finding is causing me some anxiety as I ponder the technical definition of cannibalism…

Porky’s Pulpit: Pro Bono Barbecue

Swineday Bloody Swineday
According to an informative paid advertorial article in the News & Observer, when international supergroup U2 visited the area this past weekend for a concert they ordered out for barbecue from Clyde Cooper’s Barbecue in downtown Raleigh.  Cooper’s co-owner Debbie Holt received a late afternoon call from a member of U2’s staff from on board their private jet a short while before it touched down at RDU.  (Do private jets come equipped with $3.99 per minute Airfones in the seatbacks?  Can even Bono himself afford these rates?) 

Despite rumors to the contrary, Bono is not a vegetarian, though his bandmate Larry Mullen Jr. may be.  Despite the presence of a vegeterian in their midst, the U2 entourage placed an order for slightly more than $225 worth of barbecue and sides, which had to be delivered to the jet after their concert ended in time for a 10:50 p.m. departure. (“We love you, Raleigh, but it’s time to go… there’s barbecue waiting on the jetway.”)  Debbie Holt, her husband Randy Holt, and cook Chess Smith stayed well past Cooper’s usual 6:00 p.m. closing time to cook up the food for the hungry, pork-loving Irishmen. 

Interestingly, this is not U2’s first NC barbecue encounter.  There is a vintage photo of U2 on the wall of fame at Bullock’s Barbecue in Durham, where famous visitors to the restaurant are honored.  The photo features a picture of circa mid-1980s U2 along with the classically underwhelming caption, “U2 – Band from Ireland.”  A couple decades and more than a few millions album sales later U2 is back eating ‘cue in NC again.  Apparently, slow-cooked pork is a hit Where the Streets Have No Name.

Porky’s Pulpit: If Pigs Could Fly…

If pigs could fly, which airport would they use?  Not Raleigh-Durham International (RDU), at least if they knew they might get cooked there.  Brookwood Farms BBQ is a relatively new entry to RDU’s dining scene, with a location in the posh new Terminal 2 (which used to be the still pretty new Terminal C before it got torn down, and before that there was just old Terminal A and old Terminal B, but Terminal B was closed after Terminal C was built, and… well, it’s a long story). 

According to the blurb on the RDU website, Brookwood Farms BBQ is located near gate C-9 (even though the terminal is now called Terminal 2, not Terminal C, mind you) and is open from 4:30 a.m. until 9:00 p.m.  The website says of the restaurant, “Hailing from nearby Siler City, NC, Brookwood Farms BBQ invites you to come and sit a spell while enjoying real down home cooking.”  Needless to say, despite that folksy quote, I am highly skeptical of the quality of any BBQ joint that is in an airport.  Plus, the folksiness smacks of faux ‘cue to me, but I’ll reserve final judgment until I visit, hopefully on my next flight out of RDU since even I can’t justify driving to the airport just for a meal. 

Actually, let’s be honest, I’ve pre-judged Brookwood already because their wholesale barbecue is sold at large grocery stores.  I’ve had it before and it is simply not good.  See H. Kent Craig’s scathing review if you want the gory details.  Interestingly, Craig says he used to really like their ‘cue, even going so far as describing it by saying, “it embraces your mouth like a silken sexy lover, kissing your tastebuds with one of the most pleasant initial tastes, as well as pleasant aftertastes when you burp your signal of approval later that night.”  Craig writes that the BBQ’s quality has dropped markedly over the years.  But maybe the ‘cue served “fresh” at the restaurant at RDU will be different?  Heck, maybe pigs can fly!