45 Days

Wow. It's been forty-five days since my last blog post. It's been so long, in fact, that my Mother called me today to see why I'd been so busy. The truth is... I haven't been that busy at all. The wife has been pretty busy lately, and I've had to spend more time tending to the twin terrors, but that's not why I haven't been posting. No, the truth is, I've been obsessed. With Barbecue.

You see, I come from Memphis, Tennessee, the epicenter of the barbecue universe. There are more famous BBQ joints in Memphis than there are carjackings, or gang violence. Well, maybe that's not so true anymore, and a big reason that I would never want to raise my family there, but, anyway, Memphians know their BBQ.

Sure, others will tell you that there is good BBQ to be found in Kansas City, or Texas, or the Carolinas, and maybe they're right. Some people have compared the regional differences of BBQ to the likes of French wine. Drive a hundred miles and the taste changes. But I tell you this... there is no good BBQ within a hundred miles of where I live. And believe me, I've looked.

Funny thing about Atlanta is that nobody seems to have been born here. They come from all over the globe, usually transferred for work or to retire at a lower cost of living. And every time I meet somebody and the conversation turns to BBQ, they all agree that what we really need is a good BBQ restaurant. Sometimes people will recommend a BBQ joint, and when I ask them how the BBQ is, they always say, "The Brunswick Stew is really good". Even if it were, that's not BBQ. Brunswick Stew is what happens when small woodland creatures fall into pots of boiling water while carrying corn and tomatoes and other vegetables. BBQ is tough, fatty cuts of meat cooked for hours over low heat and blue smoke until it surrenders itself and becomes moist, juicy, and fall apart tender and makes you wonder why you would ever eat anything else.

So I've been in my back yard, tending fire and marrying spices for the last couple of months. The wife hasn't had to do as much cooking, and there's always plenty of leftovers in the fridge, so she's happy with me. And if I cook too much, I just take it to work and let the employees fight over it. I might be neglecting some of my other projects... the yard needs mowing and I need to start on my Christmas light display and my blog might die of loneliness... but who cares when you're eating this good?