No, this is not a recipe.
If you had read yesterday's post like you were supposed to, you would know that Kitchen Monkey and some friends made an hour and a half trek northeast to Plant City, Florida for the second annual Pig Jam BBQ contest. It was a little bit smaller than I expected; still, there must have been at least 50 or more BBQ "teams" vying for the grand prize of whatever. A trophy and some cash probably.
However you feel about the south, you have to admit that it knows BBQ, and for that alone it has the respect of my tastebuds. The gentleman above is a man named Big John, he is from Texas, and he is pulling some pork.
I've recently learned that Texas BBQ is known primarily for its beef brisket. As you can tell I am not an afficianado, but I'm learning, and hey, I only started eating beef again three weeks ago. That said, I had one of Big John's pulled pork sandwiches and it was incredible. A heaping mound of smokey pork on a hamburger bun. That was it. The bun was just a garnish, really. I then had two pork ribs from Bubba's BBQ stand, followed that with two slices of pork butt from Championship BBQ Team. Oh, and some pecan pie. And yes, that much pork all in the space of an hour will present you with many choices. Such as, would it be better for me to pay a visit to the Port-a-John, or just curl up in a corner and cry softly.
One thing I felt compelled to document was the number of signs that played on the different aspects of animal anatomy and their corresponding sexual double-meanings. Perhaps an example is in order:
Lastly, I couldn't resist the need to post a photo of these very relaxed gentlemen. In case you can't make out the sign, it reads "Lazy J BBQ." I have two new personal heroes.
No southern BBQ festival would be complete without a cover band that plays Skynnyrd:
And finally, if you've just eaten loads of pork and suddenly feel the urge to give blood, well...