The Bird is the Word

Stamey's
2812 Battleground Ave, Greensboro, NC

Wood panels and wallpaper, log rafters overhead, big as a barn and wide open inside. Across the way a portrait of Mr. Stamey himself. Reminds me of a young Ron Reagan. The pres, not the yoga teacher. I was lucky enough to have my cousin Bailey along with me on this one, though she herself said she wasn't much into barbecue. Can you say "adopted"?

The waitress took our order and was back with the plates in the time it would take you to wash your hands, if you're into that sort of thing. My alleged cousin had ordered hers chopped with slaw and hush puppies, which seems to be de rigeur in the tarheel state. For myself, sliced and a piece of chicken. The whole operation turned out to be further streamlined on the back end by the use of paper plates.

On the table, the holy salt-pepper-sugar trinity was rounded out by ketchup, a bottle of Texas Pete and another unnamed condiment, a deep amber color. It could only be the house sauce. Thicker than the hot sauce, thinner than the ketchup, with a peppery vinegar kick.

By now I'd grown accustomed to the unusual geometry of Carolina hushpuppies, so today's surprise was the slaw. It was brown. I've seen and eaten a fair amount of slaw in my day, mayo based, vinegar based, asian styles with sesame oil and lime juice. But brown was a shade apart. I gathered that it was due to the addition of the house sauce, which was notably absent from the pork itself. Good slaw...crunchy...sweet...a class act all the way.

As for the meat, the pork stood on its own four legs. Not literally. Those days are gone. Now I see what all the fuss about vinegar based sauce is about. It's sharp and goes well on the hush puppies, too. The chopped, according to the waitress, is a bit more fatty than the sliced, and I will say that it glistened enticingly, nearly winking at me from across the table. On my plate, the sliced was mild and piggy. Like my Dad's second wife. Just kiddin', Brenda.

The star of this show, however, was that damned piece of chicken. Now, I like chicken, but I thought I was doing it some kind of favor by including it in my order. Well done throughout, but richly juicy, and with a sauce that clung to it like swimwear. Sweet and spicy, and plenty left on the plate, giving the hush puppies something to do with themselves. If I had it to do over again, I believe I'd pass on the pig and focus on the fowl.