Well, last week I went to dinner with the students who won my package for the public interest auction. Some of my better healed colleagues offer packages like a weekend at the beach or the mountains; alas, all I'm able to offer is an evening at a local barbeque joint ... followed by karaoke in one of Chapel Hill's finest bars, of course.
Why barbeque? Perhaps because of my unending debt to everything that barbeque has done for my career over many years.
And since this is my third year here and I still haven't found a barbeque place I love, this is the third place I've been to with students. Mama Dips is too high fallutin', IMHO. And Allen and Sons just wasn't getting the job done, either. Though I am reliably informed by a Chatham County native (who is also an Alabama fan) -- and therefore someone who knows something about barbeque -- that the Allen and Sons on the road to Pittsboro is better than the Hillsborough one, so I'm guessing it'll be over to Pittsboro next year.
This year we went to Bullock's in Durham. I rarely truck with Durhamites -- except, of course, when I'm using Duke's outstanding rare book room. But I thought I'd make an exception this time. I'd heard great things about Bullocks -- and the name screams "this'll be great barbeque." I write about one Edward C. Bullock, who gave a couple of literary addresses in Alabama before the Civil War, so I figured -- this place has some real potential. When I walked in I saw a cash machine -- the universal sign that this is a cash only establishment. A very good sign. However, I was more than a little worried at the number of luxury cars in the parking lot. There are far too many Mercedes and Lexuses in this lot. Something was amiss. Then, get this: the people standing in line in front of my were comparing notes on editions of a college physics textbook. My heart sank. The food was not bad, actually -- not Dreamland, but not bad.
Let's face it, I like barbeque sold from a window of a cinder block building. A cinder block building with bars on the window -- perhaps more to keep the customers safe from the cook than the cook safe from the customers. Maybe there's a couple of picnic tables outback. Maybe. And the menu -- ribs, beer, soda, and whitebread. Perhaps they could even offer a fried pie for desert, but that's about it. If they give you a napkin with your beer, you're running the risk of having picked an establishment that's puttin' on too many aires.
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