Monticello, and the Feral Cat

You should know that we haven't had much of a plan during any part of this trip. We try the night before to figure out go, both scenically and gastronomically. Sometime it's worked, but most of the time, I've just been busy blogging and playing with the cats and my brother's been watching American Idol and Dancing With the Stars. So then we get up in the morning, and just climb into the car. Between a $12 atlas bought in a Jersey rest stop and my 9 Southern food books, we figure it out.

So you can imagine that when both my dad and my brother's niece mentioned Monticello, Thomas Jefferson's estate, in separate conversations, we felt it was destiny. We'd previously planned to drive out to the Cape Hatteras, check out Kitty Hawk, do the nature/birthplace of flight thing, but the numbers didn't work out. We needed to go north and east at the same time, not north and then east. So it was off to Charlottesville, VA (no relation to Charlotte, NC - except in this blog). Halfway through the five-hour trip, we pulled off to grab some 'cue at a roadside general store. Turns out that the pulled pork was cooked by a local woman, who drops it off in the morning in a crock pot. We got the last delicious sandwich. I have to point out that I (inadvertently) made a 'Dukes of Hazzard'-style exit. This involved a gravel parking lot, a local gentleman in a soiled wife-beater and my hitting the gas way too hard to get back on the highway. Far as we could tell, the gentleman and the windows on the general store were still intact. The feral cat outside the store too.

Monticello (the latter half of the name sounds like the musical instrument - a topic of much discussion during the ride there) is the home of our third President. Our 35th, President Kennedy, famously said at a dinner for Nobel Prize winner in 1962, that '...probably the greatest concentration of talent and genius in this house except for perhaps those times when Thomas Jefferson ate alone.' Good stuff.

There's just way too much to talk about with regards to T.J., so I won't attempt to. Suffice as to say that Ivan and I chose the plantation tour over the garden tour because it's hard to reckon the fact that the man who wrote the Declaration of Independence was the same man who owned over two hundred slaves at one point in his life. Our guide provided us with a realistic depiction of slave life, as well as the economics of slavery. It was a stark contrast with the brilliant man who designed his own home and essentially worshiped intelligence and wisdom. We all need to talk more about this, despite its being such a difficult topic to discuss. Please make it a point to visit this national landmark (click here for Monticello's official site).


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John T. Edge

In the adjacent post, I mention the Southern Foodways Alliance. I've also mentioned the bookmobile I've put together to facilitate this road trip. In addition to the books specific to North Carolina and specific to barbecue (and those specific to both), there's a great book out there that gives a broader, more cultural outlook to this amazing thing called Southern food. It's Southern Belly, by John T. Edge (click for his website). The Miami Herald called him 'the Faulkner of Southern Food'. I don't quite see it, as I can pronounce most of the geographical areas that he writes about. However, it's quite possible they meant it in a more literary sense, at which point I'd agree. In addition to his books and magazine contributions, he's the director of the Alliance. I've also had the pleasure of making his aquaintance and getting a picture with him at last year's Big Apple Barbecue Block Party in NYC (yeah - you read right...kick-ass 'cue in Gotham).

This photo is bittersweet for me. The great part is that I'm getting a picture with Mr. Edge, who looks like he might have found something I said funny (or my facial hair). The bitter part is that I lost that great Yankee hat soon thereafter. There's been no evidence that JTE had anything to do with that.

click here to buy Southern Belly on Amazon

click here to buy Southern Belly on BN.com

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Blogger = Sexy (day 4)

I know there there's a perception that bloggers are totally hot people who choose to sit in front of a computer to share their B.S. with the world. Hate to say it, but it's true. This is me in action. The cat is Shoshanna, the shirt is Porkway and, if your look hard, there's a Southern Foodways Alliance sticker on the cover of the laptop. Here's your pin-up, ladies.

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North Carolina Aviation Museum (day 3)

Started out this morning without too much of a plan at all. At looking at one of our 38 maps/atlases, we saw that the North Carolina Aviation Museum was about an hour away, in the town of Asheboro (not to be confused with Asheville). First off, I don't necessarily judge a museum by its gift shop, but a good one goes a long way with me and this place qualifies. The exhibits, located in a hanger close to the tarmac, were fantastic. My brother is a huge plane freak and some of it has rubbed off on me. Part of what made this place amazing was the history of the area and it's contribution to WWII.

As I've noted before, it's the people I'm meeting that is making this road trip exciting. Today, I made the acquaintance of Roger Hicks. He'd seen a Purple Heart sticker on a car in the parking lot and sounded excited at the prospect that it was one of us. Despite the fact that the closest either of got to one of those military decoration was possible carpal-tunnel due to too much PlayStation, Roger was really friendly and hospitable. Like other folks, he was very interested in the Porkway and the road trip and was forthcoming with his 'cue opinions. Add another great person to the growing list of folks I've met lately.


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Porkway Mobile, now mobile (day 1)

I've set up my Crackberry and Blogger to be able to post from the phone. Henceforth, these postings will be signed off as Porkway Mobile. Oh - this is my awesome brother, Ivan. - Porkway Mobile
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile


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first day on the road trip (day 1)

My brother, Ivan, and I had no clue what we wanted to do and see on this first day. The only thing we could agree on was that we were NOT going to drive all the way to Charlotte, NC. We both are tired from our work week and didn't want to rush around. Also, pretty much in agreement that it was I-95 until past Washington, D.C.. Then we stopped at 3 different tourism centers to take almost every brochure offered to us.

We decided to bypass many Civil War sites (Manassas, Antietam, Fredericksberg) to focus on getting an Econolodge just north of Richmond. The capital of the Confederacy, Richmond is a little more than halfway to our destination. If we stick to the plan, we'll get up and, after breakfast at Aunt Sarah's Pancake House, head west to Appomattox Court House, where Robert E. Lee surrendered to Ulysses S. Grant. After geeking out there for a while, it's further south for us, via the Blue Ridge Parkway.

McLean house, April 1865.

Photographed by Timothy H. O'Sullivan.



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the bookmobile, part 1

I've had a few suggestions from people who lived or went to college in North Carolina. I got great advice from the other Porkway founder, my buddy Ian. He made a road trip through the state a few years ago and has offered some tips.

However, if you want something more codified, you can't go wrong with Bob Garner. He's a genuine Tar Heel with many 'cue books. This is the one I'm taking along with me.

buy from Barnes & Noble

buy from Amazon



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hellhounds on the bbq trail...

This is a fairly accurate geopolitical representation of New Jersey. I'm located in a particularly dense, yet beautiful part of this state, around about the dot labeled 'Hackensack'.

To those who just laughed at the thought of Bergen County being described as beautiful, just think of the last sunrise over New York City you saw. Or maybe a sunset over the Meadowlands. Take a hike up and down the Palisades or grab a burger at White Manna (see aforementioned 'Hackensack'). Technically, the last thing isn't 'beautiful', but it's really freaking delicious.

There's a lot in New Jersey, including great barbecue - in our state and local competitions, some restaurants and, most definitely, in many of our backyards. However, we don't have a barbecue tradition. This doesn't mean we don't know how to smoke meat. We've just never had to.

Hopefully, there'll be a lot of big and small 'cue joints along the way, lots of scenic vistas and history to take in by the bucketful. I hope you'll follow me and my brother Ivan on this journey.



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