Cornbread Nation 2: The United States of Barbecue (Cornbread Nation: Best of Southern Food Writing) (29 page)

There was a funeral this fall in Kentucky; "Pappy" Bosley passed away in
Owensboro. Back in 1963, Pappy and his wife had sold their own home to buy
a little thirty-seat barbecue joint that specialized in serving mutton. Forty
years later, at the time of his death, they'd managed to turn that tender, musky
mutton into $5 million in annual sales at the Moonlite Bar-B-Que Inn.

The same quirky vision of success lives on in smoke-stained pits across the
country. With the right sauce and a little luck, the sky's always the limit.

Greg sometimes takes a Sunday drive in Indiana on a little country road
that runs along the Ohio River just north of Louisville-at least it used to be
a little country road. Now it's also the main thoroughfare to the huge Caesars
riverboat casino that bobs offshore about seven miles away. A few weeks ago,
at the point where eager gamblers head out of New Albany onto Ind. 111, a new
sign appeared: Back Porch BBQ. The owners had opened up in a building that
used to be something else. They were excited, even fawning, as a seasoned customer bit into a bun stuffed with sizzling pulled pork.

It brought back memories of the nationwide quest for 'cue that had been at
the core of Real Barbecue. Was this sandwich "the best we've ever had"? No,
not really. Was this BBQ joint a bigger gamble than the tourists were taking at
the casino? Yeah, probably. But when a few pieces of pork tumbled out of the
bun and landed on the plastic cafeteria tray, they had that smoky red richness
that only comes from a hand-tended fire and a pit man with patience. Picked
up and dipped in a little sauce, it was still as true as ever: this is what the
American Dream tastes like.

This is the meal equally set.

-Walt Whitman

There are several items, tools and tricks of the trade, without which any
Southern kitchen is incomplete. A good paring knife. Mason jars and fresh
canning lids. A big iced tea pitcher. Bacon fat. And, perhaps most essential, a
cast-iron skillet. As any Southern grandmother will tell you, this last item is an
absolute must. The solid metal distributes heat evenly over the cooking surface, ensuring perfect fried green tomatoes and pork chops. A well-seasoned
pan will be practically nonstick, so that cornbread and pineapple upsidedown cakes slide out effortlessly. With proper care-and they do require extra
attention, even obsession-an iron skillet can last over a century, longer than
the grandmother singing its praises, possibly longer than the child receiving
the lecture.