In Memphis, barbecue borders on being a religion—a religion with legions of followers. Its disciples are many, and they worship at the multitude of barbecue joints that are the source of the tender, moist pulled pork and smoky ribs that are the city’s hallmark cuisine. Secret sauce recipes are sacred and closely guarded, not to be shared.

In the South—and Memphis is a Southern city, through and through—the word barbecue (or barbeque, bar-b-q or, in its simplest form, just BBQ) is a noun, not a verb. When someone in Memphis says, “Let’s get some... Read More

Some people can hop on a plane without so much as a guidebook in their carryon bag and actually look forward to exploring a strange place without an itinerary or even knowing much about where they’re going.

I’m not like that. I’m a planner. I research and read and prepare detailed itineraries for my trips; it doesn’t matter if I’m traveling for work or pleasure. Although I don’t go so far as to schedule bathroom breaks, I have been known to map out my meals as well as how much time I think it will take to get from Point A to Point B.

But, as... Read More

Everybody I know who is familiar with Memphis says that you’ve got to try the barbecue. You’ll love the barbecue! And I’m sure that’s true—if you like barbecue. But as far as I’m concerned: Meh. I can take it or leave it. Usually I leave it. To me, barbecue means gnawing on bones for a shred of meat, which in my opinion turns a meal into an unappetizing chore. I prefer my food without the messy anatomy lesson, thank you very much.... Read More