When I lived in the Midwest, I was completely confused when someone would invite me for BBQ and then serve hamburgers. Down here, BBQ is a noun. Think about it.
This week, I met someone who is a competitive BBQ champion. How did I miss this as a vocation?
I’m not gonna divide the Palmetto State by arguing about Pee Dee style vinegar BBQ versus mustard style. I mean, vinegar always wins, but they’re both delicious.
When I lived in Kentucky, they serve “barbecue” mutton. Yes, mutton. Old sheep. It’s not BBQ.
When I went to Texas, they “barbecue” beef. Beef everywhere. Beef.
Well, I don’t eat pork, but I do eat BBQ. And bacon. Makes perfect sense.