Barbecue is a religious issue. Barbecue is properly made from the ass of a pig. When someone says barbecue, it properly refers to shredded pork. ‘Pulled Pork’ is some new-agey nonsense they made up to appeal to the kids.
Those heathen Texans keep hollerin about brisket like it’s as good as real barbecue. You can barbecue a cow, that’s beef barbecue. You can barbecue a chicken. That’s barbecued chicken. You can barbecue an old boot. That would be a barbecued boot. But if you say just, “barbecue:” that refers to the ass of a pig. Saying pork barbecue is superfluous. It’s like saying PIN number.
Let’s not get deep into the sauce schism. I’m personally of the thin vinegar base denomination but will accept thin sweet red devotees as brothers and sisters in smoke. I’m also partial to the newfangled hot sauce that is made from the fat that has caught the spices. It should be used as an adjunct to one of the two righteous sauces.
We’ll not speak of those reprobates and their mustard sauces. Smells like heresy.
Breakfast, too. Nothing beats gettin’ off a long shift, and that little meth-den of a gas station just turned on the outside lights. You know that chicken fried steak biscuit is about to be drippin’ cause the gravy hasn’t had time to set yet, and the coffee can be used as a substitute for tar.
No lie! In the south the rinky dink gas stations might have the best smoked brisket or pulled sandwiches you have ever had in your life …
Now y’all listen up.
Barbecue is a religious issue. Barbecue is properly made from the ass of a pig. When someone says barbecue, it properly refers to shredded pork. ‘Pulled Pork’ is some new-agey nonsense they made up to appeal to the kids.
Those heathen Texans keep hollerin about brisket like it’s as good as real barbecue. You can barbecue a cow, that’s beef barbecue. You can barbecue a chicken. That’s barbecued chicken. You can barbecue an old boot. That would be a barbecued boot. But if you say just, “barbecue:” that refers to the ass of a pig. Saying pork barbecue is superfluous. It’s like saying PIN number.
Let’s not get deep into the sauce schism. I’m personally of the thin vinegar base denomination but will accept thin sweet red devotees as brothers and sisters in smoke. I’m also partial to the newfangled hot sauce that is made from the fat that has caught the spices. It should be used as an adjunct to one of the two righteous sauces.
We’ll not speak of those reprobates and their mustard sauces. Smells like heresy.
Breakfast, too. Nothing beats gettin’ off a long shift, and that little meth-den of a gas station just turned on the outside lights. You know that chicken fried steak biscuit is about to be drippin’ cause the gravy hasn’t had time to set yet, and the coffee can be used as a substitute for tar.