The Devil made us do it: Maurice's Gourmet Barbecue

South Carolina is too small to form a republic, yet too large to be an insane asylum.
- James. R. Petigru

Maurice's Piggy Park
Columbia, SC

When we turned our minivan off Charleston Highway and into the lot of Maurice's Piggy Park, I saw the two Canadian families right there ready to meet us, between the giant neon pig sign and the oversized billboard adorned with Bible verses. Hot damn, I slapped my knee in excitement:  I had no idea what the barbecue was going to be like, but I had successfully served my friends a big helping of South Carolina crazy.

Maurice Bessinger's restaurants are known for two things:  Great barbecue and loopy politics -- not necessarily in that order.    The barbecue is the very embodiment of that distinctly South Carolinian style, covered with a sweet, vinegary mustard sauce, and served with a mustardy organ-meat hash smothered over rice.  Maurice's politics, on the other hand, are the very embodiment of that distinctly South Carolinian type of, um, crazy person.

Most South Carolinians, if you ask them, will remember Bessinger as the man who ticked off the NAACP and got boycotted by the Piggly Wiggly, Walmart and Lord-knows-what-other-retailers in the 1990s and early 2000s.  After the South Carolina General Assembly  finally decided to remove the Confederate battle flag from the South Carolina State House, Bessinger  decided to set up his own restaurants as centres of protest, with Confederate flags flying on the flagpoles, and pro-Confederate literature sitting on  the front tables.  This decision, as you can imagine, did not go over well, and before he knew it, he was a pariah.  Some state employees were being instructed not to be seen at the restaurant, and all the local grocery stores refused to stock his "Southern Gold" brand of barbecue sauce on the shelves.  About two years ago, without apologizing, Bessinger quietly removed the flags from his restaurants.  (You should know, by the way, that this was not even close to Bessinger's first brush with Southern racial politics.  In 1968, Bessinger had to be forced under the Civil Rights Act to desegregate his restaurant, and went all the way to the Supreme Court fighting it. He worked on George Wallace's Presidential campaign, ran an anti-integrationist organization during the 1960s and 70s, and even ran a flamboyant campaign for Governor, riding through campaign stops in a white suit and riding a white horse.) 

Walk into Maurice's, and the first thing you'll see is a table full books and pamphlets.   The infamous one that allegedly attempted to justify the institution of slavery is no longer there, but you'll still see a copy of  Bessinger's autobiography, Defending My Heritage. Based on our quick flip-through, the book expounds  Bessinger's views on states' rights (he likes them), civil rights (not so much), slavery (not as bad as you might think, apparently) and race relations (fine, he thought, until the rabble rousers showed up).  Up on the front wall is a big portrait of Bessinger himself  posing in front of (what else?) a big Confederate battle flag.  Adorning the other walls are Confederate memorabilia (such as a battle portrait of Nathan Bedford Forrest) and some signed photos of local dignitaries (notably, Representative Joe "you lie" Wilson has a photo with a long note).   There's some retro furniture, including, mysteriously, a vintage garbage can in the dining room, taped over and marked "for decorative  purposes only".  Not sure what that was about.

As I recount all these details of the Piggie Park's history, and the symbols decorating the restaurant, I'm feeling less and less secure, morally speaking, about our decision to go there.  If buying a barbecue sandwich in South Carolina has become a political act (as Jack Hitt once reported), then what does it say about me  that I brought a group of 14 Canadians into the restaurant to spend their money?  

I don't know.  All I can say for myself is:  Curiosity got the best of me.  I'm not totally sure I don't owe the world a tearful "I have sinned" confessional, like Jimmy Swaggart after the hooker episode.   It's just that for years, as I've heard about Maurice's, I've wondered what the pork was actually like.  At times, I imagined it as some sort of forbidden fruit, evil but too good to resist (the politician Alex Sanders once joked that he'd slip in the back entrance late at night, when no one was looking, like t was a strip joint).   Other times, I've suspected the clever marketing job could be a cover for a mediocre product.  The truth turned out to be somewhere in between.  The pork was quite good:  moist and tender, not overdone.  The sauce was ok, but not much to write home about,:  Mustard-based, a little vinegary, and a bit too sweet.  More importantly, it kind of overwhelmed the taste of the meat -- and all too common complaint about the South Carolina mustard style. Sides, as is typical in South Carolina, consisted of rice and a mustardy hash, made of organ meats.  In summary:  Good, but not 100-mile barbecue.

The Canadians with me seemed to agree, both on the culinary and the moral points.  The barbecue got a thumbs-up, for the most part, but not enthusiastically, and with a big dose of guilt.  As our resident diplomat on the trip put it:  "I've only felt this way once before in my life.  In Norway, I was was once served whale meat.  It tasted great, which made me feel all the more terrible"

Interestingly, not one member of our crowd of 14 reported tasting any wood smoke in the barbecue.  Once we were done, we even asked to have a look out back, to see for ourselves how it was done.  We were summarily turned away  ("insurance problems,"  the guy in the back told us).

Maurice says on his website that every one of his 15 or so locations, open seven days a week,  serves barbecue cooked over wood coals.  He also assures you that his barbecue is low in cholesterol.  You decide.

First stop: Lexington

I've met God. And God is Brown. Or at least, God orders Brown . . . . In one bite I went from appreciating Carolina barbecue in a food writer-ish sort of way to appreciating it in an I'm selling-all-my-belongings-and-moving-down-here sort of way.  Genre utterly redefined, attention riveted, appointments dropped, cholesterol swelled, lapels stained, political party switched, Jesus Christ adopted as personal savior.  Finally, I got it!

- Jim Leff, founder of Chowhound.com, in John Shelton Reed's Holy Smoke 

After two full days of driving, followed by Sunday blue laws-imposed disappointment on our arrival, we finally hit barbecue on Monday, March 12. And what barbecue it was. When the first members of our entourage arrived at 11:30, they were advised by the wait staff: Get you a seat, now. This place will be full by noon. It was.

Lexington Barbecue #1 (which, once I asked for directions, I learned is known locally as Honey Monk's), is considered the gold standard of Western NC (or “Piedmont style”) barbecue. Wayne “Honey” Monk cooks Boston Butts – the upper end of the pork shoulder – as opposed to whole hogs, as they do in the East. The sauce (or “dip”, as it is more accurately called) is a ketchup and cider vinegar mix, in contrast to the the spartan, vinegar and pepper concoction that defines the Eastern cue. Hushpuppies and a ketchup and vinegar-based slaw are the traditional sides.

Partisans of the Eastern NC style tend to dismiss the Piedmont cue as a bowdlerization, but there are advantages to this style, chiefly the abundance of “outside brown”, or “bark” on the meat. You also get your choice of regular-style (finely minced and not all that interesting) or coarse chopped (absolutely transcendent). My advice: Go for the dark meat, coarse chopped, and ask for extra outside brown. Also, the slaw here – ketchup, pepper and vinegar based – may be the best of the whole trip.

The wait staff were friendly, and clearly used to the idea of barbecue pilgrims traveling hundreds of miles to sample their product. Sadly, there was no one around to give us a tour of the pits (they were short-handed that day), but the view from the window gave us a good view of the whole process. All in all, a good beginning.

Days 1-2

Second day of driving. Spent the morning at the astonishing Luray Caverns, and had fried chicken at the astonishing Southern Kitchen in New Market, Virginia.

The barbecue quest was a little less satisfying, with all four choices for the evening (Allen and Son, Stamey's, Lexington and Hursey's) closed.  Note to future travellers: Not a great idea show up in NC barbecue country hungry on a Sunday night.

Tomorrow:  Heading out to Lexington, NC, to sample the gold standard of Piedmont barbecue, Lexington #1 (Honey Monks). 

Strap Them Kids In

From the City Paper: 10 places to eat right now in Charleston

On the not-necessarily-barbecue front:  Charleston food historian and critic Rob Moss recently put together this list of the 10 hottest places to eat in Charleston.  He especially recommends Martha Lou's Kitchen:

"While most of the media buzz has centered on the fine dining restaurants and the newest new thing, Martha Lou Gadsden has achieved national acclaim for keeping things the same, year in and year out, in the little pink building down on Morrison Street. And that means good old-fashioned Southern home-cooking: fried chicken, catfish, chitlins, lima beans, mac and cheese, and plenty of sweet tea. How good is Martha Lou's? The New York Times's Sam Sifton ranked her right up there with McCrady's and Husk, and last year the Charleston Wine+Food Festival named her an official 'Culinary Legend.'"

Read more

Hi all,
As the very first blog post I contribute to the Porcivore blog, I think it fitting to refer to my favourite
"intertainers"  Rhett and Link for the Barbecue song classic.  I'm not sure sure that Britt hasn't included it already but since we regularly sing it at our house we figured that we /you should be primed!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ubTQfr_tyY

Diplomatic Assistance from Raleigh

A colleague at our trade consulate in Raleigh provided a few other pork pointers. Number four is my favourite:

1. A NC bbq trail map:  http://www.ncbbqsociety.com/trail_map.html. Paula writes that "unfortunately, my hometown isn't part of that trail, but I can speak for No. 8 on the list. It's a good one, and a it's a hop, skip and a jump from the Raleigh Consulate."
2. If you want to add a veneer of academia to your bbq tour, you should google John Shelton Reed. (Note that this was Britt's starting point.) Here's the wikipedia link for him: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Shelton_Reed. He's a professor (actually probably retired by now) at UNC-Chapel Hill (my alma mater) and has written extensively on Southern culture. One book of his, Holy Smoke: The Big Book of North Carolina Barbecue, could be of interest. I heard him lecture from it a couple of years back, and he was really good - entertaining and intellectually stimulating (at least as much as you can be given the topic).
3. Also potentially of interest is Dennis Rogers. He used to be a columnist for the News & Observer (www.newsobserver.com), the daily paper for Raleigh, NC, and he wrote several columns on the barbecue wars in NC. Perhaps, you can find some of them in the paper's archives. As I recall, they were quite good.
4. Finally, I have to mention Rufus Edmisten. He was a rising star in the NC Democratic Party and held a couple of statewide offices. He was running for governor (or maybe lt. governor) and made a comment about how tired he was of eating barbecue on the campaign trail. Needless to say, that comment did him in. He lost the election, and now he's a lobbyist. We do take it quite seriously here; don't we.

More SC-Canadian History: Dr. Rufus Bratton

Dr. Rufus Bratton, born just south of Clover, SC: A Klansman, Canadian refugee, abductee and subject of English diplomatic assistance. (this appeared in a 1929 volume of Southern Medicine and Surgery)

"During the period of Reconstruction the men who formed the Ku Klux Klan of that time were obliged by the necessities of the situation, Negro domination and carpet-baggers' rule to take the administering of law and order into their own hands. York county was under military rule, the writ of habeas corpus was taken away and no justice could be obtained in the corrupt courts. So, threatened with arrest. Doctor Bratton, with many other citizens, had to leave the state. He initially went to London in the province of Ontario, Canada. There in 1872 he was kidnapped by a detective who was after the reward for the doctor's capture, offered by the United States government, and he was brought back to Yorkville for trial. After several weeks of imprisonment in jail crowded with the best citizens of the county he was released on bond. The English government demanded of the government of the United States that he should be released and returned to Canada on the ground that he had been unlawfully removed. After a sharp diplomatic correspondence between the two countries, this was done. Doctor Bratton re- turned with his family to London, Canada, where he lived and practiced his profession for eight years. In 1878, after a white man's government had been re-established in South Carolina, Doctor Bratton and family came back to their home in York, where he had a large practice until his death, September 2, 1897. The South Carolina Medical Association honored itself by choosing Dr. Bratton president and he served as chairman."

The 52-page diplomatic papers are available on the Library and Archives of Canada website. http://www.collectionscanada.gc.ca/databases/orders/001022-119.01-e.php?&sisn_id_nbr=23952&page_sequence_nbr=1&interval=20

"It's a Montessori for Pigs"

Joe York does it again. Here is the wonderfully titled short film "Ride that Pig to Glory", about pig farmer Emile DeFelice, tango enthusiast and owner of Caw Caw Creek Pastured Pork. Here you will learn how a hog farmer can draw inspiration from the tango, Montessori and Plato. Beautiful.

Ride That Pig To Glory from Joe York on Vimeo.

North Carolina: The Historic Barbecue Trail

Only in North Carolina could you find a historic trail devoted enturely to barbecue. These people make no apologies about the face that the wood-smoked is an essential part of the region's history. This map, put together by the NC Barbecue Society, covers all of the long established places, family-run stands that still cook with wood. Have a look.

Bowens Island

Oh, Lord, what to say about this. First: Joe York is my hero. Between this and his fantastic documentary on Scott's Barbecue in Hemingway, York has mastered the genre of South Carolina food film.

Bowens Island is a Charleston-area institution going back several decades. Here they'll walk you through the whole process, picking, rinsing, roasting and shucking and finally eating the local oysters. And yes, we can go there.

BOWENS ISLAND from Southern Foodways on Vimeo.

Thoughts from a newbie

I am a foreigner. A Norwegian in a strange land, new to all these North American traditions. To be clear, I come from a tradition where BBQ means buying a disposable grill from the grocery store and throwing on a few highly processed hotdogs. Oh sure, historically speaking, the vikings apparently strayed from their diet of porridge and putrefied fish from time to time and cooked whole animals in a pit. According to archeologists, the Norwegian vikings cooked large, whole animals and the method of cooking dates back to 700 AD. But then, I supposed they just preferred the putrefied fish and this remains a national dish, whereas the tradition for roasting animals in pits are not part of the heritage in the same way. Can't really figure that one out.

As we are a week away from our BBQ tour, I am daunted. This will be a challenge. I am keen to try the slow roasted BBQ pork, and am keen on both the mustard sauce and vinegar variety. My concern really is that my cultural baggage of disposable grills and sad hotdogs will betray me and that I simply don't have the stamina required to really dive into the pork experience and to sample a wide range of BBQ. Will my body accept eating BBQ for a week straight?

A Carolina-Canadian Connection: The Swamp Fox

Back in the 1950s, Canadian actor Leslie Nielsen starred in a Disney TV series called the Swamp Fox. Intended to capitalize on the success of the Davy Crockett series, the show was based on the life of South Carolina's favourite guerilla soldier, Revolutionary War hero Colonel Francis Marion. According to Nielsen, Swamp Fox was the only Disney show ever publicly condemned by the House of Commons. You see, these "villains" Marion was sniping at from down in the cypress swamps were British soldiers, or as we now know them, future Canadians.

In a bit of sibling rivalry I can appreciate, Nielsen also blamed his brother Erik, an MP at the time the series was publicly condemned, for spearheading the motion.

Your Guide to South Carolina

Click on the map to enlarge

A map of South Carolina, as seen by the notoriously snobbish Charlestonians. Lots of inside humour here, and nothing ruins an inside joke like having somebody spell it out for you -- but here I go anyway:

• My hometown is between the Peachoid and the PTL. The Peachoid is a giant peach-shaped water tower in Gaffney. Or at least, it was intended to look like a peach. There is another (unintended) likeness, which I can explain later
• PTL is Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker's famous televangelical ministry and theme park, which went belly-up shortly after Jim got caught sleeping around and paying hush money (PTL stands for "Praise the Lord", "People that Love" or according to a Charlotte radio station, "Pass the Loot."  The ministry was eventually taken over by Jerry Falwell, who famously posed for this picture, going down the PTL waterslide in a 3-piece suit
• Bob Jones University (aka BJU). You've got to learn about this place. Fundamentalist university, just a few blocks from Furman, where I went to university. Check out their code of conduct, including dress codes.  And of course, this remarkable set of rules, which prohibits immodest photos, but only requires trigger locks for pistols brought on campus.
• Nuclear Waste: See Savannah River Plant. They make nuclear weapons there.
• Football and Corruption (and beloved symbols of our proud Southern heritage): That would be Columbia, where you can find the state capitol, the University of South Carolina, rebel flags, and various Confederate ghosts.
• Golf and K-Mart by the Sea. Myrtle Beach, and I'm guessing, the Waccamaw outlets.
• Pat Conroy. Look him up. Better yet, read The Water is Wide.

Howlin Wolf, Barbecue and the Baby Jesus

In his book Pig Perfect: Some Encounters with Remarkable Swine and Some Great Ways to Cook Them Peter Kaminsky offers this remarkable observation about Ed Mitchell's product:

"The soggy bun -- mooshy from the sauce and slaw -- helps the barbecue slide down your gullet, like Howlin Wolf once said 'like Baby Jesus in satin pants.'"

And yet, no footnote or reference. I hereby offer a free babecue dinner to anyone who can find the song or interview where Howlin Wolf said that. I must know.

More on Scott's Barbecue

"Rodney Scott so personifies everything people admire about barbecue that he almost seems like some food writer dreamed him up. He cooked his first whole hog at the age of 11. He cuts all the wood for Scott's Bar-B-Que himself, with a chain saw. He cooks only one thing, whole hogs, and he cooks them superlatively well."

Read Time magazine's feature on Rodney Scott, pitmaster of Scott's barbecue in Hemingway, SC. Better yet, watch this slideshow narrated by Rodney Scott himself.

Oh! And there's also a feature in the NY Times written by John T. Edge, one of the best Southern food writers out there. Have a look.

Skylight Inn, Ayden, NC

A Family Tradition from Mark Dolan on Vimeo.

Hite's Barbecue, Batesburg-Leesville, SC

The Hite of BBQ from Mark Dolan on Vimeo.

The Pit, Raleigh, NC

Ed Mitchell, longtime pitmaster at Mitchell's barbecue in Wilson, NC, talks about his new restaurant in Raleigh, called the Pit.

Ed Mitchell Talks About The Pit from John Sconzo on Vimeo.

Chicago Trib Visits the Piggie Park

"Maurice Bessinger’s restaurant is a paean to Southern Baptist conservatism. Walk in and you see a portrait of the man standing proudly with a Confederate flag. Next to the mustard sauces and dry rubs are books on sale — Mitt Romney, Pat Buchanan, The Bible. There’s Bessinger’s autobiography, 'Defending My Heritage.'”

A Chicago Tribune columnist struggles with his conscience and visits Maurice's Piggy Park.