We good old southern boys think there’s nothing finer than chewing the fat over some finger licking southern cuisine. And what better food is there to literally chew the fat over than a good pork butt – it sounds a little fancier if you call it Boston Butt or BBQ. Well there’s several definitions of BBQ. Everyone over the Mason Dixon line thinks BBQ is meat that you put a little sauce on and eat it daintily with a fork. Some even think that you can use any kind of meat for that purpose. But we of the true southern descent know that BBQ ain’t BBQ if it doesn’t involve pork. And even in the south, we fight over what’s good bbq. In the Carolinas there’s Eastern BBQ, Piedmont BBQ, Low Country BBQ and more. The Texans have their spicy BBQ’s which incorporate some of those pepper from across the border that most of us can’t prounounce. We even have BBQ cookoffs and plenty of fights have broke out over those because of regional favorites. But one things for sure here in the south, BBQ doesn’t stand a chance without the sides that go along with it – Coleslaw, beans and hushpuppies. Interview fifty BBQ cooks and you will get fifty different recipes - and everyone of them is prepared to fist fight over their own personal recipe for hushpuppies. They leave the coleslaw to their wives.
Part of the pleasure of cooking barbeque is the beer-drinking. We must have it iced down just right - it has to be good and cold for us to tolerate the heat of the constant basting of the pig. This is where things can get out of hand since the more beer swigging we do, the more our opinions differ. Politics is one topic that you try to stay clear of but it always comes up. Talking politics can take the best of buddies and turn them into Mama Grizzlies, to coin a phrase from a political wannabe. Which can in turn cause a good BBQ team to run amok and behave in a wild and unruly manner. Whose watchin' the meat boys!
Just as we sometimes have designated drivers, we have designated pig watchers at our organized BBQ's. Whoever draws the short end of the stick has to referee the butt kickin's, keep the BBQ from burning, and make sure no-one's fingers get chopped off. It's a thankless job because no one remembers to be grateful.
If any of you Northern folk ever want to join us, you have to sign a disclaimer. Attend at your own risk - no lawsuits allowed. Oh, and don't bring a fork.
