kpurvis

Well of course you'll do it in the fall, Dean -- barbecue is not summer food! And yes, I'd definitely come. I'd even bring deviled eggs.

I love the method for grilled boneless duck breast from Cook's Illustrated grilling book: Cut away all but about a 1 inch wide strip of the skin, so you don't overwhelm the coals with dripping fat, grill it skin-side down for 8 minutes, then turn it and grill several minutes longer. It's great, with just enough crispy skin left on. My question: I want to dress it up a little, and I keep thinking that pomegranate molasses might make a good flavor as a baste. But it's so sweet and sugary. I'm trying to think of what I could mix with it to make a good marinade/baste. Anybody have any thoughts?

That's a good question, and one I've pondered occasionally. ("on a midnight dark and dreary, as I ponder weak and weary, where my next brisket sandwich is coming from . . . ") My theories: 1. South Carolina barbecue is harder to sum up in a neat description. (No, it's not all mustard, mustard is just in a small pocket around Columbia in my experience). South Carolina barbecue is all over the board, with whole pig in some places and chopped in some places and all kinds of different sauces. Faced with something hard to describe, people tend to just not describe at all. 2. South Carolina is very rural, with big pockets of people concentrated in Columbia, Charleston and Myrtle Beach. Visitors are usually just whipping through on their way to one of those places and the notable barbecue places are often farther off the path. It's not like flying in to Charlotte for a business trip and running up to Lexington or over to Shelby for an afternoon. The truly great S.C. places, like Sweatman's, take some effort to get to. 3. If a national writer on the caliber of a Craig Claiborne comes to the Carolinas, it's easy to fit in an N.C. barbecue jaunt on the way to interview somebody like a Bill Neal or a Ben Barker. But if a national food writer goes to South Carolina, they tend to fly straight to Charleston and skip everything else.

Hey, Mark. Thanks for doing this. Times recipes never move with nutrition analysis on recipes. Since I know it's not a question of lack of resources, I'm curious about the policy on that. Is there a paper-wide policy? As a writer, do you have an opinion on the value (or lack of value) of nutrition analysis per-serving? Do you get much feedback from readers on that?

I've seen people with burn barrels at contests. I've also seen people using prepared hardwood charcoal with hickory chunks, which I don't think is a bad thing. The proof is in the eating and many of those barbecues are very good. Spectators at the Blue Ridge Barbecue Championship in Tryon, N.C., get to eat a lot of very good 'cue. I've judged there many times, and the contesters amaze me with the amount of work they're willing to put in.

Hey, I would never stop anyone from seeking the barbecue-filled Grail. I'd just try to get them to keep an open mind about other possibilities. Bob Garner's book refers to Salisbury to Albemarle as "the barbecue trail," and I'd agree with that. Since Salisbury is so close to Lexington, you could hit Lexington No. 1 (called Honey Monks locally, if you're finding your way by pulling into gas station and shouting out the window for directions). You could leave time to try a few others. Lexington is a good place to just walk into stores and ask people for their favorite place. You'll find a lot of strong opinions. If you have time, jump over to Shelby for Bridges Barbecue Lodge on U.S. 74 and Alston Bridges downtown across from the hospital.

I've noticed a lot of similarities in my relatives -- the hugging, talking with our hands, the way we focus on the next meal while eating the first one. I've even noticed, in my Irish-roots family in Georgia, similar coloring -- ruddy complexions and brown eyes. I pointed this out to Italian friend once and he had an explanation: There's a legend that Caesar's soldiers, on their way to northern England, got lost and were shipwrecked in Ireland, giving rise to the supposed "black Irish." He claims that Southerners with Irish backgrounds are still really Italian, because Italian blood is so strong, it never fades! As lines of b.s. goes, I got a good laugh out of that one.

With no sweetness, please. No sweet relish, no -- Lord help us -- Kraft's salad dressing. They should be mustardy/mayonnaisey and creamy. I usually avoid gussied-up deviled eggs, but I make an exception for the incredible deviled eggs in Shirley Corriher's first book. They have butter-fried shallots in the filling and are topped with grated lemon zest, green onion tops and red caviar. (They violate all the rules. But they're fabulous.) I also recently sprinkled a little smoked paprika on deviled eggs, just en pointe, and it wasn't a bad thing, but you could carried away with that kind of thing.

Are you coming to High Point? (Just an educated guess.) If you are, let me know. I can probably round up a list of places for you. I don't get up there on eating trips all that often, but it's close to Winston-Salem and there are some good places up there. (And yes, Jason, it's located close enough to both Shelby and Lexington to do a comparative tasting of Honey Monk's, Bridges Barbecue Lodge and Alston Bridges.) If you come any closer to Charlotte, let me know.

I love barbecue. I seek barbecue. I'm nonpartisan and open to all kinds -- even Texas. In my kitchen, I have a framed series of pictures that document my father feeding me my first spare rib when I was 14 months old. (Other people have pictures of their first step. My family took pictures of my first 'cue. This makes sense to me.) But still . . . all every visitor to the great state of North Carolina wants to know is: Where's the barbecue? From the Food Network producers scouting locations to the guys coming in for the pharmacy convention, they all ask the same thing. If I read one more Bon/Gour/Saveur piece that starts out "In the land of chicken-fried steak, who would have believed there would be (fill in the blank -- Vietnamese food, Mexican food, fine dining, sophisticated ingredients.) I'm not really sure what my question is here. I guess I'm just wondering: What will it take to get the South recognized for more than the sum of its cliches?

I think a special award should have been given to the table where Dara Moscowitz and Matt and Ted Lee were sitting: "Best Mis-Use of the Weird Giant Chocolate Hand." By the end of the dinner, they had broken off all but one particular finger. Unfortunately, it was only moments before someone from the Fun Police broke off the remaining finger. That may also explain why we journalists are given our own dinner.

Sorry you were robbed! Thanks, and same to you. But I wasn't robbed at all. St. Louis Post-Dispatch has three times my resources, and Judy Evans is a friend and a really good editor. If I'd been beaten by another section with a one-person staff and no space, I would have felt robbed! As it was, I knew I wasn't going to win, so I could sit back, relax, enjoy the wine and clap for a lot of people I know and genuinely respect, like Lee Dean. Another Beard event no one has mentioned, by the way, was the welcome party at Artisanal. They had wheels of eppoises that were like swimming pools. I know what my next wet dream will be about.

Yeah, but Tony -- was it you who lit all those cigarettes and stubbed them out in the ashtrays by the Marriott elevators? And when it comes to your snubbing by Alton: I know how you feel. You gave me the same look when I said hello. I'm not bitter, mind you. One of the joys of being a mid-40s woman is getting to walk by the gaggle of young women clustered around Bourdain. What do you do, smear honey on your tux? Re Swoozie Kurtz: Does Jane Jetson know she borrowed her wig? Sorry I missed you at the journalism dinner, Fat Guy. I had a Lee Brother keeping an eye out but he never spotted you. I really did want to pay my respects. Best part of the Beard awards for me this year: The Sunday night party at Noche. Hot roast pork and cold Mojitos, plus Jacques Pepin, who gets his own gaggle of sweet young things. Watching it all, I was a happy girl.

I cook with mine a lot in the winter. Chicken is what it's known for, and it does a fine job of it, but I've also used it for a really dandy version of that Vietnamese pork dish with the hardcooked eggs and the caramel sauce. It might take awhile, but I could track the recipe down. Can't remember where I found it. Another thing the pots do well, if you have a large enough one, is bake bread. I'd never put mine in the dishwasher. I've never needed to. If you've soaked it well before cooking, it doesn't have a sticking problem, and I think of the stray brown marks as seasoning. I'd never put anything with pores through a dishwasher. You want flavors to soak in, same as cast iron.

I think you have a good point. I also think that we build up trust in certain writers. We look for their names and get a small Christmas-morning feel when we see them. I think about that while reading Saveur. I usually enjoy the short first-person pieces at the front of the book, but it annoys me that the identifier only runs at the end, as a tagline. I have to flip pages before I know who I'm reading. And if it's first person, I want to know whose voice I'm hearing -- male, female, a name I know, a name I don't. It seems a conceit to let people write in the I, but hide their names at the end. On the e-mails: The only downside to e-mail responses is that they're so time-consuming. Unlike a phone conversation, which can be offhand, an e-mail answer feels like something I should carefully compose -- and that takes time. But I do enjoy getting them. Many of the ones I get are passionate and heartfelt, and obviously took time. Same as first-person: If you're going out on a limb to stick your head out from behind the curtain, you're taking ownership.

Welcome, Corinne. Charlotte is a jumping town for food. I answered a reply like this one a few months back that you could probably locate if you use a search. And since I'm a food writer at the local paper, it's not really fair of me to weigh in on the pros/cons of different places. But I can certainly give you a primer: Uptown (it's called uptown here, not downtown): Mimosa Grill, chef'ed by Tom Condron (Upstream, also chef'ed by Tom, has gotten some national coverage); Sonoma Grill, where Tim Groody specializes in California-style with great locally grown produce; Mert's Heart and Soul is a little funky/a little uptown; Aquavina, new, very hot and on a great location next to a beautiful new park; Bijoux for upscale French (great zinc bar, upstairs seafood bar); Mortons/Capitol Grill/Bistro 100 for upscale chains. For slightly funkier at lunch, look for Tic-Toc Diner, Gus's Sir Beef in the Latta Arcade and a few blocks toward the edge, the remade Presto Grille. For brewery/bistro with good food, Ri-Ra (check out the facade on the Transamerica Plaza) and Red Rocks. Also look for Carpe Diem.

I struggled with this issue mightily when I first switched from so-called "hard news" to food writing. As a journalist, I was trained to be a bystander, to never let myself, my opinions, enter into the story. Journalists are taught to always remain "the wizard behind the curtain," and in most circumstances, I agree with that. But as a food journalist, my role is different. I'm the reader's companion in the kitchen. My readers don't have their grandmother or their mother with them as they stand over the stove. So that's my role -- to be the person standing with them, to say "Yes, I've done this and you can do this too." To cojole them and comfort them and maybe tempt them into new waters. In more than a dozen years on this job, I've seen the difference a strong, active first-person voice makes in the response I hear to my articles. They can hate my voice, love my voice, disagree with it, learn to like it. But they certainly respond to it. Food writing is different from other forms of writing in that regard. Readers must -- MUST -- feel like there's someone there with them, burning the steak, screwing things up a little, but still being willing to try it. Food-writing that stays in the second person is too often removed, lifeless, lofty. I've debated this with other (non-food) journalists who think first-person is a little "icky" (and yeah, sometimes I still feel a little icky in first person too -- who the hell should care what I think?). But I truly believe that food writing is a different kind of writing, with different rules. Interesting lesson learned in this one, for what it's worth: When I first started as a food editor, I wasn't allowed to have a picture sig with my columns like other writers at the paper. (Long story, of interest to no one but a young journalist or maybe my mother.) When I finally was "bestowed" with the hallowed honor of that postage-stamp picture on top of my weekly sig, I noticed an immediate difference. The response from readers, the letters, faxes, phone calls (this predates e-mail -- oooh, I'm old) dramatically increased. Even people I'd known for years suddenly asked me, "when did you start writing for the paper?" even though I'd been writing for the paper, under a byline, for several years. (I started as an editor and crab-walked backward into writing. Try doing that and chewing gum at the same time.) What made the difference was the face, the face combined with the "I" voice. I really believe that readers crave the comfort of a real person with them in the kitchen, a living, fallible -- and fallible may be the key -- person. Why do you think so many people on this site have such a visceral reaction to Amanda Hesser? Amanda is a hell of a good writer -- there, I've said it, come after me with the torches. But why do you think she gets so many of you so hot? Do you see anybody devoting reams of posts to every word penned by George Will? My job is to have a dialogue with the readers in the city where I live. First person, in food writing, equals passion.

I will if you'll teach me the secret of adding a pithy quote after my signature. I tried to add some personality with my favorite new Tom Swifty, but it didn't come out in that chic blue like yours. Of course, actual signature art will ever be beyond me.

Varmint, can I disagree on that? I'd keep Crooks on the list of important Triangle experiences. I give the chef high marks for keeping it interesting and relevant, when it would be easy just to let the place be a Bill Neal legacy. Also, S'Kat, you're probably too early in the season, but if you can, the Carrboro Farmers Market is a don't-miss. In fact, I think half the fun in the Triangle isn't the restaurants, it's the food shopping -- Mariakakas international market in Chapel Hill, Fowlers Market in Durham, A Southern Season in Chapel Hill. Take an extra suitcase.

I don't have much to add -- my basic is stick of butter, a bottle of Louisiana brand hot sauce, a little habanero sauce just to make it hot enough for my husband -- but I'll definitely second that vote for the electric skillet. I just bought one at a yard sale. I'm a cast-iron skillet die-hard, but the electric turned out a great batch of fried chicken. Being able to set it to a certain temperature is definitely a help.

Correction to my earlier post: I've been in two Food Lions in two days, looking to restock my lard supply. (I went in to buy Ditsy's Cheerwine sherbet. It comes in ice cream with a Cheerwine swirl and sherbet; I haven't tasted it yet, but my husband says it has possibilities for a good Coke float.) Anyway, no lard. They used carry Lundy's in a 5-pound bucket, which was decent quality lard for baking. I finally found some Inca in a Mexican market, but that leads me to a question: Does anybody have a source for good lard in Charlotte, N.C.?

Add another vote for "Betty Crocker Boys and Girls Cookbook," my birthday present when I was 10. And no, I don't still cook from it -- I outgrew my need for Mulligan Stew a short while back -- but my 10-year-old son does. My first "adult" cookbook: Cecily Brownstone's "Associated Press Cookbook," a gift from my mom, along with a classic Happy Face cookie jar, when I got my first apartment in the late '70s. The AP cookbook was my mom's commentary on my chosen profession, long before I had anything to do with food writing, but I still use it -- it was surprisingly forward-looking.

Didn't Julia say something along the lines of, "Only the cook need know what goes on in the kitchen"?

I've had the Cheerwine sherbet but hadn't tried the Sundrop version. I'll definitely look for it. But can I say one thing in defense of Food Lion? The ones around me are good sources for things like bones for stock and for lard, because they often cater to fixed-income, older shoppers who do more traditional Southern cooking. (Not great lard, mind you -- not leaf lard -- but they usually have the kind in the bucket, which is worlds better than the stuff in the box.)

I ate at Nana's last spring on a slam-fast eating tour of Triangle. I liked it very much, particularly the seasonal touches on the menu. I recall a cold cantaloupe soup with mint, and a roasted salmon, but I'd have to dig out my notes for anything more reliable. The one thing that surprised me was that I was expecting more Southern touches, given the name and Jean Anderson's piece on Scott Howell in Bon Ap, but the feel of the place and the menu seemed much more Mediterranean. Anybody else have that reaction?