Julie’s intro to southern BBQ

By: Julie Winch

Growing up in Pittsburgh, my exposure to barbecue amounted to chipped ham—a “delicacy” made of very thinly sliced/chopped deli ham that’s mixed with a tangy barbecue sauce and served on rolls. Don’t get me wrong, it’s delicious in its own way. But it’s certainly not barbecue. 

So when I moved to Atlanta, my yankee ass would go to places like Fat Matt’s Rib Shack and order the chicken. At a RIB shack! First time I tried to do this, Graham nearly called things off. Thankfully he saved me from myself and ordered the ribs, which were clearly the way to go. 

I’ve always loved cooking, but barbecue just wasn’t something I had much experience with. I knew when it was good, but I didn’t really understand the almost doctrine that it holds in the South. And for good reason—that first bite of perfectly smoked, juicy pork butt is a religious experience. 

The art of smoking has an added spirituality. It takes a quiet dedication—getting up at 3am to start the fire, stoking it for hours to maintain a steady temperature, lovingly basting or spraying your meat of choice to ensure juiciness. It’s an attentiveness that feels like a spiritual retreat…but one made best with an ice cold beverage in hand. 

Graham is the pitmaster here at Southern Stoke, but I’ve taken on most side dish duties. They may not be the star of the show, but they’re what makes every meal a truly southern experience.