Vermont Barbecue
This past weekend we drove up to Vermont, to enjoy the season, as they say. We had read about a good barbecue place (Vermont barbecue? We said the same thing) and thought that would make a nice stop while we took in the fall foliage.
We were hoping to take eye-popping pictures of jaw-dropping color, catching the Vermont leaves at their very peak, as well as hoping to eat barbecue that would make us misty-eyed as we gummed at the moist, fatty goodness that is a pork rib. Many leaves had been downed by the remnants of Tropical Storm Nicole and many were still green. We had to settle for a few pictures of a little fall color (Marissa took the nice one above). As for the BBQ...
I can say Curtis' Barbecue is the most picturesque BBQ joint I have ever seen. Built in an old school bus, tucked under a grove of trees just off the highway - smoke billows from the grill, with shafts of light anointing the space as the holy site it deserves to be. I really loved what Curtis has done because Vermont is not exactly barbecue country. It is a beautiful land of rolling hills, friendly, earth-loving people, fantastic cheese, and many other good things. But it ain't barbecue country.
I did appreciate the meal, though, because it got me thinking and reminiscing about barbecue, and my good fortune in having enjoyed it over the years.
I have been to some of the best barbecue joints, in some of the best barbecue towns in the world: barbecued mutton at Gates in Kansas City, Missouri; barbecued game hen from The Cozy Corner in Memphis, Tennessee; pulled pork sandwiches from Hog Heaven in Nashville, Tennessee (if you get chicken, definitely get it with the white sauce); sloppy ribs at Fat Matt's Rib Shack in Atlanta, Georgia; and the chopped pork of the gods from Stamey's in Greensboro, North Carolina.
It hit me, driving through Green Mountain State Park, I've been one lucky meat eater.
I'm hard pressed to declare a favorite. The game hen was out of this world. So much flavor from such a tiny little bird. Fat Matt's was consistently good, washed down with Sweetwater 420 Pale Ale, a local Atlanta micro-brew. The pulled pork in Greensboro cost all of about $5.00 and was as tender, juicy and full of smokey-good flavor as anything you can imagine. But the mutton was something special - rich, meaty, sweet and comforting. It has been six years since I ate it but I remember it like it was yesterday.
At Gates', you can have it sauced (covered in a thick, red barbecue sauce) or not-sauced. I asked for it sauced and the woman taking my order yelled to the back, in a booming but musical voice, "Saauuce that mutton!" I knew right then this was going to be something special.
So, sorry Vermont. I just wasn't focused on your New England beauty. I was daydreaming of smoked meats and sticky bones as I drove through your lovely rolling hills. We did buy a pint of maple syrup, though, made with love in small batches by a real Vermont family. Nobody does maple syrup better than you, Vermont.
