When I was up north, I remember sitting at a bar with the lunchtime crowd when the discussion of barbeque came up. There were two southerners amongst the group, obviously outnumbered. Being a northerner, I figured this would be a quick discussion -- how much of a discussion could they possibly have about barbeque? I sat there for an hour and a half and listened to both sides. Once each side moved past the language gap, the conversation proved to be very interesting and educational.
Up north, barbeque means one thing -- to cook outside. Up north, if you are invited to a barbeque, you are invited to someone's house for summertime comfort food...hamburgers and hotdogs, sometimes with sausage and steak.
No so in the South. In the South, barbeque has a culture of its own. Not only are people proud of their cooking (a number of folks have huge smokers outside where meat can can be smoked for hours), but they are serious about their sauces. They have actual contests and events featuring sauces. For a good many of the southern people, the hotter the better.
Yesterday, my husband and I sat in Sonny's, a popular barbeque chain here in Florida. I had acquired a ravenous taste for barbeque since I moved down south, so much so that it constantly competes with my ever present sushi hankerings.
My husband commented that I never use sauces. No...I don't. I am not a sauce person when it comes to barbeque. I like my sliced pork "straight up," thank-you-very-much. I find the sauces too sticky and besides, I hate messy foods.
"But that's the whole purpose of barbeque! The sauce!" he countered.
Yeah, maybe he's right. Then again, he was talking to the same person who does not butter her grits and drowns them in milk with no other toppings added!
What can I say?
I meander to the beat of a different drummer.
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