Backcountry Barbecue

My friend Marc Hoffman has been nagging me to check out this restaurant for a couple of years. Over the recent holiday weekend, I finally got a chance. Backcountry Barbecue is located just off I-85 at the Linwood exit near Lexington. Which any Lexingtonian will tell you is the barbecue capital of the world. It is also the home of the world famous Lexington Barbecue Festival held in October, which draws thousands of people to the area.

Lexington is where I cut my teeth on barbecue, so to speak, when I was living in nearby Salisbury and through my girlfriend at the time, I was introduced to “The Monk”, which was the local name of the  world famous Lexington Barbecue restaurant, where I experienced my first “lean brown course chopped tray.” For aficionados, memory of their first real barbecue often ranks up there with memory of another first (if you know what I mean.)

One of the features of Lexington barbecue is that you can get the regular “chopped” meat or “course chopped.” Mentioning the word “pulled” is likely to have the same effect as the guy who used to say “Would you please pass the jelly?” on the telly.

Back Country Barbecue is in a non-descript building by the side of State 43. Like most good BBQ joints around here, interior decoration seems to have been an afterthought, but, as I always say, you don’t eat atmosphere, you only pay for it.

Like the rubes we were, we sat out front on the Formica®, while the locals opted for the cozy dining room with its red (painted) brick wall and faux mantel. There was also a counter, but it was crowded with papers, menus, spoon and fork dispensers and the like.

I ordered the course chopped sandwich and received a bun full of thumb-sized chunks which, though slightly dry, had excellent smoke and the bark(which is the reason you order course chopped) was immensely acceptable.

The hazard of ordering course chopped pork on a bun versus the tray mentioned earlier, is that the watery Piedmont sauce soaks through the bottom of the bun much faster than with the regular chop, giving it the consistency of mucilage. This is a feature which I had forgotten in the thirty years since I had eaten my last course chopped Q.  As I mentioned before, turning the bun over mitigates the issue to some degree, but alas, by the time I remembered this, it was too late.

An indication of the quality of the meat is perhaps reflected in the fact that I can usually count on eating one and a half sandwiches at these places because my wife seems never to be able to finish hers, but here I was out of luck. I looked up from my plate to see my wife wiping the last morsel from the corner of her mouth.

It’s tough in the BBQ business in these parts because the competition is fierce and the expectations are high. Backcountry Barbecue is in for the long haul.

Diner rating:

  

In a Crowded Field, Richard's Holds its Own



Ricard's Barbecue sits in view if the historic Grimes Mill in Salisbury, NC.

 The historic and photogenic town of Salisbury, NC is located just a few miles from the epicenter of North Carolina Barbecue, Lexington, home of the world famous Lexington Barbecue Festival which draws thousands each October.


Salisbury is a veritable mother lode of smoked pork, with probably more BBQ joints per capita than any other town its size. Places like Wink’s, The College BBQ (home of the best foot long hot dog I’ve ever eaten) and Hendrix Barbecue are household names around these parts. Richard’s is a relative newcomer to the scene, being only a couple of decades old. It is also closest to the town square, having supplanted the now defunct Peeler’s which was just behind the courthouse and edging out Marlow’s by a snout.

The people in this part of the country are provincial about their barbecue. It’s always chopped. Here, the slap of cleaver on hardwood is an almost constant counterpoint to the chatter of customers, clinking of glasses and the Nashville sounds that squall from the speakers. Pulled pork is anathema, as is sliced pork, or beef, which, of course, really isn’t barbecue at all.

At Richard’s the “white’’ meat is finely chopped--almost minced-- lightly smoked, served with red slaw on top and hushpuppies on the side. Add a tumbler of the syrupy tea they serve in these parts, and your meal is complete. The sandwich comes to you dry. The sauce, which sits on the table in a re-purposed ketchup bottle, is left up to you.

The sauce is always vinegar based in these parts. No other type is worth their consideration. I love the bite of the vinegar and the crunch of the coleslaw as a counterpoint to the mild squish of the meat when I chomp down on a sandwich, but the juices from the slaw and the thin sauce sometimes soak through the bun, making it fall apart. That’s why the waitress will hand you a fork with your sandwich, though the soggy bun problem can usually be ameliorated by flipping it upside down. Richard’s has a salad bar and a varied menu, but why bother. With so much competition in the area, there’s no room for mediocre ‘Que and Richard’s holds its own.

Diner Rating: 3