TRIGGER WARNING: Lots of meat. The posting rules are simple; if you try to denigrate the food I ate, or tell me that my diet in Hattiesburg was unhealthy, I will delete your comment. I have stated a gazillion times that I eat like this only on seminar trips, and that my usual diet at home is healthy. Leisure fascists and food police aren’t welcome here.
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I took advantage of my Darwin Day talk at Southern Mississippi University to sample the local comestibles. All too often on seminar trips, the hosts take you to generic “continental” restaurants where you eat generic and bland cuisine. But my hosts at SMU kindly acceded to my request to sample the indigenous cuisine: Southern and seafood.
As soon as we pulled in town, and before I checked into my hotel, we went to Leatha’s BBQ, rated by TripAdvisor as the #1 restaurant in Hattiesburg. It was a classic BBQ joint, simple and humble, with the all-important smoker out back. This is an improvement from the shack that, I’m told, Leatha’s used to have before the owner moved it into town. (Leatha died not long ago and her daughter runs the operation.) And this is what you want a BBQ joint to look like:
And this is what you want your plate to look like. I had three meats: pulled pork, pork ribs, and beef ribs, with a side of their “famous slaw” and potato salad, along with the Wine of the South: sweetened ice tea. Extra BBQ sauce is in the cup at the top, and the rolls are an afterthought (cornbread or hushpuppies are far superior). I found it good but not great BBQ, with the ribs being a bit mushy. It was still an excellent meal, but not comparable to the place we visited for lunch the next day.
After dinner I asked if I could see the smoker, where all the meat is smoked before cooking. Here it is: a 30-year-old smoker that resembles a Russian space capsule. The meat is smoked for about six hours with pecan-wood smoke, and then finished inside in an oven. The guy who starts the fire and smokes the meat comes in at about 3 a.m.
The pecan wood is burned in this attachment to the smoker capsule, with the smoke then fed through the tube to the right and up over the meat:
The critical smoker chamber. It’s clearly not been cleaned in 30 years, and you don’t want it to be!
The pecan logs. If there’s no smokehouse, and they’re not using real wood, don’t go to that place for BBQ. Much of American “BBQ” is severely debased, infused with “artificial smoke” and cooked to a jelly-like mushiness.
For lunch the next day we went to a truly superb place: Strick’s. It’s larger and fancier, but the food was excellent, especially the pulled and chopped pork. It was hard to choose, for it was crawfish season and I could have had a huge plate of boiled crawfish (not shown here) instead of BBQ. But I opted for the BBQ buffet—only about $12 for all the artery-clogging food you could eat.
The highlight was an entire BBQ pig, and you could simply ask the guy to slice off your preferred cut, which he’d then chop into pieces. That’s is the way you want it, with the tender inside bits mixed with the crispy bits. You can also add sauce, but really good BBQ needs no sauce: the smoke and the meat suffice. This place was not stingy, so you could go back for seconds and thirds of pig. Other meat was also on tap: fried chicken and pork ribs.
Buffet, part I: turnip greens, creamed corn, unidentified dish, cole slaw, fried chicken, and unidentified dishes.
Buffet, part II: green beans, baked beans, unidentified dishes, fries, jalapeño cornbread muffins (excellent!), hush puppies, and onion rings:
Buffet, part III: Salad. Useless filler; only for weenies or those on a diet (but why go to Stick’s if you’re on a diet?):
A properly composed BBQ plate: chopped pork, a pork rib, a jalapeno cornbread muffin, a slice of cornbread, a hush puppy, turnip greens, creamed corn, and a big glass of sweet tea. I had seconds and then dessert.
Half of the desserts: banana pudding (a classic southern dish) and chocolate pudding. I had the banana pudding and then came back for the hot, freshly made peach and blackberry cobblers (sadly, not photographed):
For dinner after my talk, six of us repaired to Marlin’s Grill where I had another classic southern item: shrimp and grits (a sublime and impossibly rich meal, one that everyone should make or try at least once). When properly prepared, it’s a world-class dish (photographed with my iPhone). Grits, cheese, cream, tomato, spices, and many plump shrimp.
Finally, I expressed a wish for oysters, which are abundant and good in the Gulf (Hattiesburg is only an hour away from the shore). On the way to the airport, the chairman took me to the Half Shell Oyster House so I could indulge. (We have good oysters in Chicago, but they’re hideously expensive.)
I started with a half dozen raw oysters, though they offered them prepared in several ways, including grilled. I favor the naked bivalve. Ketchup, Tabasco sauce, lemon, and horseradish come on the side.
And the main course: a fried oyster po-boy (“submarine sandwich”), perhaps my favorite sandwich in the world. I favor these in New Orleans (Casamento’s makes a great one), but the Half Shell’s po-boy was also great. Note that this is indeed a sandwich; there is a long roll underneath all those oysters. Cheese grits are on the side, and, of course, iced tea.
Sure good eating! Y’all come back, hear?
