Gentle reader,
What follows is an account of a journey I took in the late spring and early summer of 2008, across the north end of the South, America's barbecue belt. The trail took me from Wilmington, North Carolina, through Tennessee, Mississippi, and Arkansas to Kansas City, Missouri. Along the way I met lots of nice folks and ate about three dogs-worth of meat.
Bear in mind, this wasn't a competition. I never set out to say who has the best barbecue, though in my opinion some stars did shine a little brighter than others. The beauty of the trip was seeing and experiencing for myself all the regional differences that came up as I made my way East to West. Carolina vinegars, dry rubs, sauce on, chopped, pulled, and sliced. On a bun, or on the bone. All these things mean something more to me now, no longer just words on a page. Speaking of which, the entry just below is actually the end of the line. If you want to experience the trip in the order I did, start at the bottom and work your way up. Like with socks.
Why did I do it? Why did Tenzig Norgay and Sir Edmund Hillary drag their asses up Everest? Because it seemed like a good idea at the time, I suppose. Looking back, I bet they have fond memories, as do I. As do I.
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1 comment:
Any pork rind? :o
Hello! This is Eito.
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