September 24, 2005
War Declared in Eastern North Carolina
I speak to you as a North Carolinian in a solemn hour for the life of our country, of our Empire, of our Allies, and above all the cause of good and true Barbeque. A tremendous battle is raging in Memphis and other parts of the Country. The Memphians, by a remarkable combination of propaganda and trickery have begun their full fledged assault on the taste buds of America. They have penetrated deeply and spread alarm and confusion in their trick.It would be foolish, however to disguise the gravity of the hour. It would be still more foolish to lose heart and courage or to suppose that maybe there is room for tomatoes in Barbeque sauce, however much you like the idea of spicy catsup. We may look with confidence to the stabilization of the border known as I-95, and to the general engagement of the masses which will enable the qualities of the only true Barbeque to be matched squarely against those of their adversaries with spicy catsup at hand...
The War of Lateral Aggression has begun.
(Background here)
I agree. Even here in NYC, when you get Carolina barbecue, you get shredded pork with a vinegar sauce that has never seen a tomato in its life.
For shame on those who use spicy ketchup and call it barbecue!
Posted by: meep at September 24, 2005 05:41 AMI keep tellin' you guys, If it ain't yeller, it ain't sauce.
Tob
Long Live Maurice Bessinger!
Posted by: toby928 at September 24, 2005 12:59 PMOh the humanity!
What demon has siezed your soul to have you say that eastern style is anything other than a perversion and a violation of the trust poor pigs had for the cooks good intentions?
Barbecue is made only from pork shoulders cooked over hickory and doused with red sauce. There is no barbecue but Lexington style and Speedys is the font of all that is holy! (Tongue firmly in cheek!)
As it happens, I live in Winston-Salem and for my money Lexington style is far superior to Eastern.
Posted by: Jim Gwyn at September 24, 2005 10:01 PMDear GAWD how can I live with myself. Living south of Charlotte, my poor northern-transplant body has been pulled in three different directions at once! Do I prefer the vinegar, red or cross-dressed sauce of the mid-Piedmont? I wring my hands! I rend my garments! I smoosh ashes (leftover from making mah grits) onto my forehead. Is there no hope for me? Fortunately, my wife has long ago proferred the solution: We eschew any plates of "bah-buh-cue" in our home -- unless it's slathered in rich, spicy hot, tomato based 'cue!
There! I've said it! Ketchup! Ketchup! Ketchup!
