080 TRAVEL REPORT: NORTH CAROLINA GETTING SAUCY Lexington-style barbecue PHOTOGRAPHS BY SIMON GRIFFETH GO MAGAZINE OCTOBER <strong>2010</strong>
FOOD FIGHT TRAVEL REPORT: NORTH CAROLINA All across the Midwest and the South, meat lovers have long argued about the merits and pitfalls of different styles of barbecue, from Kansas City’s sweet sauces to Tennessee’s whiskey flavorings. But nowhere is the debate more heated than in North Carolina, where two competing schools of barbecue— eastern and Lexington style (from the Piedmont region)—vie for supremacy. For decades, two writers have gone toe-totoe about which style should be the state’s official barbecue. In the Lexington corner, there’s Jerry Bledsoe, a Greensboro News & Record and Charlotte Observer reporter-turnedcrime-book author, and on the Eastern side, there’s Dennis Rogers, a retired columnist from the The News & Observer in Raleigh. Gentlemen, your arguments please. OPENING STATEMENTS BLEDSOE: IN GEOGRAPHIC terms, the state’s styles of barbecue should be labeled “Eastern” and “Piedmont.” The origins of Piedmont style can be narrowed to a single town, Lexington, the barbecue center of the earth. Thus, it usually is called Lexington style. It can be found in places roughly paralleling the portion of I-85 from Concord to Burlington. The pig, of course, is the focus of both schools. The primary reason why North Carolina barbecue is pork is because it embraces wood smoke as no other meat does. It is cooked whole in the East, but only shoulders are used in the Piedmont. This brings us to the essential difference between the two schools, and explains why Lexington style is so superior. The very definition of barbecue is meat slowly cooked over wood coals, preferably hickory in the case of pork. Lexington style clings to this tradition, which requires skill, much attention and lots of hard work. That tradition has been largely abandoned in the East, where whole pigs are placed in automatic gas cookers. ROGERS: THE SECRET OF why eastern North Carolina’s legendary pork barbecue is superior to that of the Piedmont region is really no secret at all: Cook a whole hog low and slow and baste it with a simple sauce made from vinegar, sugar, salt and pepper. Of course, that’s like saying all it takes to be a great golfer is to drive, chip and putt like Tiger Woods. Easier said than done. Swine fanciers from less barbecue-enlightened regions of this great land may be wondering about the lack of tomatoes in the sauce I described. After all, don’t tomato-laden sauces reign in The Great American Barbecue Crescent that stretches through Memphis, Kansas City and on down to Lockhart, TX? Yep, they sure do. But not in eastern North Carolina. Here, our pit masters know great barbecue is about the meat, not the sauce. Lexington-style barbecue fans go on and on about the tomato-y sauces served in their barbecue joints. Down east, where civilization and barbecue began, the sauce is an afterthought. Nice, but not vital. OCTOBER <strong>2010</strong> GO MAGAZINE 081