Southern Alabama – “Promise Land B.B.Q.”
What you don’t see here are the 5 cars parked to the side on a Saturday at noon, all lining up to chow down. The place was smoking, so to speak. I love and fear the south as much as I used to fear Nevada. Something in Nevada – a state I dearly love now – used to freak me out, those wide valleys that seemed to never end. Those spooky mountains. The south is different. I fear the feelings that may only be in me, but which I attribute to the bloody land here. I love the little juke joints and places that people put up by the side of the road. There’s a middle ground in between those terrors of mine and the small-time, down-home commerce. I’m not sure what that middle ground is and I’m not sure how I feel about it, but it’s something to keep searching for on those back roads, the ones that have been around for a hundred years or more.