Thursday, May 28, 2009

Southern Road Trip: The Beer and Barbecue Reports

The Beer Report

I sampled a plethora of fine brews on my southern road trip, not a bad one in the bunch. Here’s my ranking from bottom to top –all recommendations.

12. Pikeland Pils, Sly Fox Brewing, Phoenixville, PA. A decent, flavorful pilsner; a (much) better Busch, creamy and sufficiently hopped, good for a day when you’re in the mood to drink a hundred beers.

11. Mamma’s Little Yella Pils, Oskar Blues, Lyons, CO. Everything OB produces pleases me. This one is a crisp pilsner.

10. St. Charles Porter, Blackstone, Nashville. Laura’s choice. I only go for porters in winter, but this was clean, like a light-roast coffee.

9. Cottonwood Endo IPA, Boone, NC. IPA’s/pale ales are my favorite, and this one was a shocker. It is extremely malty for an IPA, good, but pushes the formula.

8. Sweetwaters 420, Atlanta, GA. Following an IPA with this one kills it, but it’s a decent, quaffable pale.

7. Sweetwaters IPA, Atlanta Georgia. An easy to drink IPA, almost creamy balanced by enjoyable sharpness.

6. Highland Kashmir IPA, Asheville, NC. I enjoyed this one with a catfish po’ boy at lunch and it was fully wonderful, strong but not too bitter with a citrusy hop.

5. Highland St. Terese, Asheville, NC. A nice amber pale with a good caramel malt and fragrant hop balance.

4. Yazoo IPA, Nashville, TN. A tougher, tarter version of the ubiquitous pale.

3. Yazoo Pale Ale, Nashville. I rank this high perhaps because I drank it most and developed fondness through that consistency. It’s amber, spicy, a bit sweet curbed by tart hops, and fairly full-flavored.

2. Lazy Magnolia Reb Ale, Kiln, MS. I rank this high because it was most surprising. Now I don’t typically judge a beer based on the politics of the brewer, but let’s say that by the time I cracked a cold one, I’d had my fill of the confederacy, so I was glad to see the label praising positive rebellion (as in progress and non-conformity) and not sounding a paean to ol’ Dixie. It was created to honor the big market for it in Oxford, and I just couldn’t stop cracking ‘em. Rosy apricot colored with moderate honeysuckle hops (or was that the night air flavoring it?).

1. Starr Hill Northern Lights IPA, Charlottesville, VA. So refreshing with whalloping grapefruity hops and nothing cloying about it.


The Barbecue Report

One goal pursued on my southern road trip was barbeque pork sandwich saturation. I’m happy to say I met that goal, regretting only that I didn’t have a higher tolerance – I would have liked a go at a couple more sandwiches to make it an even ten. Here are the rankings:

8. Rippy’s, Nashville, TN. An open air, corner bar on Broadway full of TVs and tourists to whom an awkward two-piece cover band prostituted themselves. The pulled pork sandwich was equally mundane, an average, mildly smoky, hastily seasoned meat moistened by middle-of-the-road sauce. But the onion rings were big and crispy and I got a free beer.

7. Rum Boogie CafĂ©, Memphis TN. Like Rippy’s, Rum Boogie was a corner bar catering to tourists on Beale, but with much better atmosphere and two cookin’ blues stages. Brick and dark with over a hundred guitars lining the walls and hung from the ceiling, guitars once played by bluesmen from Willie Dixon to Kenny Wayne to ...ahem…Jon Bon Jovi. But the sandwich was ordinary, in fact, nothing memorable about it whatsoever. Notable, however, were their fried green tomatoes, battered in cornmeal and spices and perfectly fried, served with ranch and horseradish sour cream.

6. Herb’s Pit BBQ, Murphy, NC. We were in a hurry to eat some Carolina-style barbecue in Carolina, and perhaps stopped too soon. Herb’s chopped pork sandwich had a nice vinegar to it, but it wasn’t as soft as it could have been and had no smoke to it at all. Sauce on the side was flimsy. Still, it ranks above the previous as fresher, more unique.

5. B’s BBQ, Oxford, MS. Never balk at a gas station bbq. A good smoker, meat and pit-person can produce anywhere. We got this recommendation off the internet and were not disappointed. It was a big, sloppy thing with vinegary tomato-based sauce on the side, subtle but savory. Sides of fried okra and pinto beans were plainly delicious.

4. General Lee’s, between Knoxville and Nashville, TN. Another truck-stop joint which also contained a “Civil War Room”. This sandwich was goosebump-inducing good, a well-done but still-moist chopped shoulder with a nice hickory smoke permeating. Great texture combination between soft, juicy meat and delicious chewy bits from the outer crust. Sauce on the side was orange and tangy sweet.

3. Station Inn, Nashville, TN. I picked one up from the snack window of a terrific, intimate, acoustic bar well off of flashy Broadway strip where we dropped in on bluegrass jam and ended up shutting the place down. You pass the prominent smoker on your way in and out of the bar. The meat, stringier than chopped shoulder, perhaps loin or rib-area, was smokaliciously delectable. It’s a tough call ranking this one third, but it’s like this: I know smoked meat should stand on its own – and this sure did – but I love my sauce. I like ketchup on onion rings, tartar on fish, butter on crab, and I like a side of sauce to play with when I eat bbq. No sauce.

2. Three L’il Pigs, Daleville, VA. The first place we stopped, a restaurant in a small strip mall near I-81, it didn’t seem as promising as what it delivered: soft, succulent, smoky pork, wet with vinegar and pepper sauce, slaw on the side. Although we were in Virginia, the menu touted this Carolina-style pork by giving the owner’s background: Carolina raised, a graduate of UNC, he started the restaurant in 1990 and expanded. They also served what they called Virginia-style sauce, which was like the NC vinegar we’d ordered, with tomato and sugar added. I love when a restaurant is so confident about their specialty that they set rules. The menu explicitly asked customers never to request cheese on their already-perfect product.

1. Apple House, Front Royal, VA. Only after I took my first bite did I realize that no matter how much I had consciously striven for new experience, in the back of my mind, my old familiar Apple House bbq was the standard by which all others were measured. The others were wonderful dalliances; Apple House’s sandwich is the one I can’t live without. The smoker’s name is Petunia. She’s pictured lovingly at the counter, smoking even in an ice-storm. Stopping at the Apple House on the way to Shenandoah has become routine. The smoky meat is coated with sauce bold in both spice and sweetness. It’s consistently good, but like any small-batch recipe, it varies just perceptibly from visit to visit. It was a comforting homecoming and fitting cap to my latest quest for porcine perfection.