Attention all students ... this is a special service announcement. I don't really like to invoke regional identity on a regular basis, but today it seems as if I have no choice. OK, so I'm a pretty big fan of my home state and I may be obnoxious about it every once in a while, but this is different. I'm really not offended or spiteful, but after a few incidents I have decided to make this article a priority. The topic of my concern is the often flippant use of the word "barbeque" on our campus. We need to talk. There is a lot of history behind this word that has gradually shaped my life in one way or another, and it has meaning much deeper than is usually acknowledged. In my opinion, the holy grail of Southern cooking has always been barbeque and as the semester nears its completion, I can't stop thinking about it.
This tradition of pork Barbeque in Southern America dates back to the 19th century. Estimates are that on average five pounds of pork was consumed for every one pound of beef during this time. Pigs are a low maintenance food source and can scavenge for themselves. Capturing the grazing hog has become an element of many coming-ofage trials. Even though they don't focus on barbeque, it is the understood goal.
I, at a plump 75 pounds, was forced to galumph through the piney woods of East Texas in search of my first kill. Armed with only a set of longhorns, I knew I could not return without blood. After hours of searching, I found the beast and stuck the horns into its mouth and out the pooper. Dead...and my father had never been prouder. That night the whole extended family brought food and we feasted on barbeque pork all night. Since then, I have understood the sacred nature of the word barbeque and will never forget it.
I have to remind myself every once and a while that my story isn't normal. It's likely that many of you haven't grown up around barbeque and do not appreciate it in the same way that I do. So why do I crave barbeque? Is it the blood that runs down my arms and drips off my elbow? Maybe the sweat and smoke that each batch takes to reach perfection? These are logical reasons for addiction, but I'm pretty sure the X-factor is the sense of adventure.
To me, barbeque is the physical embodiment of home on the range. When cowboys herded their cattle across the plains, there was no pork to eat. As a result, "cowboy" barbeque was born. Beef was cooked over a mesquite fire with brisket being one of the favorite cuts. Biting into this delicacy is like biting into a history book< but only in the metaphorical sense. It's like tasting a vision of the past. When cow-folk rode across the plains, they didn't eat processed hot dogs or skinny patties; they ate barbeque. They didn't have mustard or ketchup; they used the molasses, salt, and grease to slake their inexplicable obsession. The dream of barbeque was born.
Now that we're on the same page, I think it's pretty reasonable to say that hamburgers and hotdogs are not barbeque ... that, my friend, is a perfect example of a cookout. I have personally been to many cookouts in my lifetime and I enjoyed them greatly, but I am thankful the host always mentioned the fact that we didn't need to bring our steak knives < not a barbeque. So we have two words with different meanings and I personally believe it would be a shame to see another great aspect of the vernacular fall victim to general usage. When I no longer know what I know, what is life all about if the words are not meaning what they mean? I think you get the point.
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