HUH?

The Mardi Gras parade floats are supposed to be colorful and eye-catching. It’s not as important that they make sense. This one seems to vaguely refer to barbecue (how does a boss grill?) without getting specific. The people look like retirees from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. It got the attention of me and my lens.                       

STL DPB ON THE ROAD - KC BBQ

There are two cities in the United States that seem to share top honors for barbeque meats, Memphis, Tennessee, and Kansas City, Missouri. Other towns, like ours, have locally famous places but those two are considered the top rank. I don't really understand it. Mrs. C and I eat little red meat these days and I have a strong distaste for all smoked foods. To each their own. In Kansas City it is taken so seriously that the cuisine has its own learned society.  

It's Independence Day in this country. Many of us fear for the future of our democracy.            

City Daily Photo Theme Day: Smell

Someone said that writing about music is like dancing about architecture. More or less the same with photography about smell. This theme didn't grab me, maybe too much of a metaphoric stretch. But if you are a CDP elder ya gotta post something. Hence, a pan of barbecue and some kind of weird lily I brought home from the supermarket. 

There's something entirely different that's good about today. If the plan works (if the plan works) I will stop working full time in exactly one year. Maybe I should get one of those counter widgets.               

'Bama Q

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On Monday, Virginia took us to lunch at Birmingham institution, Saw's Soul Kitchen. This hovel is a temple of Alabama barbecue and Southern cooking. 

Feeling completely lost, I asked the lady at the counter what I should eat. (I often do that when I'm in an unfamiliar eatery. It works.) So, that's my meal in the second picture: grits covered in collard greens covered in pulled pork (light sauce, a bit tart and vinegary, perfect on the greens) covered in onion rings (the lightest I've ever tasted). Yum-umm-y, but not endorsed by 9 out of 10 cardiologists.

As you can see in the following pictures, the locals take their BBQ seriously. The tiny place is so busy that spillover seating is on a picnic table in the alley.

I wondered where the name Saw's came from. An occasionally reliable source with a thorough knowledge of B'ham culture and history informs me that decades ago the owner was known as Sorry Ass Wilson. It stuck, if only in an acronym.

Hope to get back to commenting on my friends' blogs later today. We got up at 4 this morning to make our early flight home. Need to go to sleep.