Hedonia

Eat me: Mutton barbecue

If you're from Texas, barbecue means beef brisket. If you're from almost anywhere else in the South, it means pulled pork. But in western Kentucky, specifically in and around Owensboro, barbecue means mutton.

We had hoped to go to Owensboro's International Barbecue Festival during last year's excursion to Kentucky, but weather kept us away. As a consolation, DPaul's mother sent us a shipment from the famous Moonlite Bar-B-Que Inn, considered by many to be the ultimate barbecue in the area. However, she sent us just the pulled pork in sauce, not the mutton they are so known for. This year, we took matters into our own hands and ordered some up.

Mutton is, of course, adult sheep (also used to refer to goat meat in some places), and so it stands to reason that it is gamier than pork or beef. Indeed, I think the mutton meat by itself would be overwhelmingly gamy, but hickory smoke and the sweet-vinegar dip complement it very nicely indeed. Of course you have to have that on a soft bun, and you better be sure there's cole slaw involved. Myself, I like mine right on top of the meat; DPaul keeps it on the side.

Now, for some reason, pulled pork is served in a "sauce" whereas the mutton is served in a "dip." Personally, they taste rather similar to me, though the dip is thinner and maybe a bit more vinegary. Whatever it is, it is delectable.

I've railed against the obliteration of true regional foods, especially in places like Kentucky. This is exactly the kind of thing I hope and pray will stay around for a very long time indeed. It is unique to its area, and has been lovingly developed and improved over many, many years. You can't get a more authentic taste of Kentucky than this, food miles be damned.

Moonlite Bar-B-Que Inn
2840 W. Parrish Ave, Owensboro KY

(Photograph from Moonlite's site)

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One year ago today ... I kicked off the Great Guac Hunt. Guess it's time to pick that ball up again.

Eat me: Bourbon Balls

I've been pretty hard on Kentucky (and Kentucky's been pretty hard on me... ) but I want to be clear that there are many good things about the place. You just have to know what and where they are.

Case in point: Bourbon balls. Betcha didn't even know bourbon had balls, did you? Well, it does, and they are delicious.

There are two main producers of bourbon balls: Ruth Hunt and Rebecca Ruth. Each has its loyalists. Ruth Hunt, the Official Bourbon Balls of the Kentucky Derby (I am not making this up) uses Woodford Reserve from Labrot & Graham; the latter uses Evan Williams. Both are worthy, but I like Rebecca Ruth just a smidge better. Some of you may already know my propensity for bourbon and chocolate, so these are right up my alley.

Bourbon balls have a center of bourbon-infused butter cream, robed in dark chocolate and topped with a perfect pecan half. Different batches we've had over the years have varied in flavor from mellow vanilla-honey notes to white-hot booziness, depending on the freshness and, I guess, how sauced the confectioner was that day.

So what are you waiting for? Go order some! Heck, you can still get them for good old Dad.

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One year ago today ... I wrote a mash note to my wooden spatula. It's even more worn down now!

On the road: A retrospective

Travel is a life-changing experience, for better or worse. Heaven knows my life -- or at least my diet -- changes every year when we return to Kentucky. Gone are the fresh vegetables from the farmer's market, the artisanal breads, the lovingly pulled shots of Illy espresso and the assertive California wines. In their place come a flood of fast and prefabricated foods, peppered lightly with a few items of genuine culinary interest.

En route to visit the in-laws, DPaul suggested I document everything I ate during the trip. I thought it would make an interesting study, in sharp contrast to the last time I captured a week's worth of food.

If the photographs are rather artless, so too were the subjects. One can only do so much food styling with paper plates and glassware emblazoned with Shrek's verdant mug. So, if you have the stomach for it, follow me on six days/five nights of eating my way through Middle America, and understand how I managed to put on three pounds during that time, despite eating only two meals most days.

Lilly's, Louisville

To say that our annual pilgrimage to Kentucky is an adventure in eating would be euphemistic. Truth be told, as I have said in the past, much of what was ever good and real about the food in this state, at least in the areas we frequent, has been subsumed by the juggernaut of modern fast-food establishments.

I don't mean to pick on Kentucky specifically. This is surely a problem of epidemic proportions around the country and, increasingly, the world. It's just that this is the one place we go to most frequently where this condition is most apparent. But there is hope.

I noticed, when perusing the list of upcoming Outstanding in the Field dinners, that there was one in Louisville. Sadly, we were not going to be here in mid-September, when it was scheduled, but I read on with interest about the chef, Kathy Cary of Lilly's. Ms Cary focuses on local produce, working with farmers in the region and even a garden of their own. A preview of the menu offered some insight into her culinary tendencies -- firmly rooted in the South, but inflected with influences around the world. I made a reservation for 7 pm on the Friday of our visit.

Lilly's occupies a corner unit on the main stretch of Bardstown Road in an area called Cherokee Triangle. No triangle at all, it's an irregluarly-shaped parcel of land, about two miles outside Louisville's downtown proper, that evolved in the late 19th century. Bordered by Bardstown Road to the southwest, Cave Hill Cemetery to the north and Cherokee Park (among Frederick Law Olmstead's last commissions) to the east, the streets are lined with grand Victorian manses, some bordering on the phantasmagorical.

Drink me: Plumpjack 13-year bourbon

It's easy to forget, when you're firmly esconced in your own happy bubble of culinary joy, that mediocrity fills the world like so much styrofoam popcorn. The one surefire way to burst that bubble is air travel. For when you are on the plane, the universe of diverse and wonderful consumables is suddenly and horribly narrowed to a meager selection of subpar goods supply of which, in Soviet-era style, is prone to running out even before demand has been given the opportunity to arise.

Coming home from New York, wedged in a middle seat, I sought succor in the form of Jack Daniels to numb the psychic pain of the trip and help make the time pass faster. (This is another thing about air travel -- the eerie extension of time, as if the fuselage of the plane is some kind of time machine with the preternatural power to turn hours into days. Small wonder I always feel years older when I deplane.)

Now, DPaul and I like us the bourbon. A lot. Having been to Kentucky something like 500 times, we have had the occasion to visit a few of the distilleries, like Maker's Mark and Labrot & Graham (producer of Woodford Reserve). Many distilleries are in idyllic spots* full of natural beauty (fresh mountain stream water is, you see, a critical ingredient), peppered with quaint and country-fied cottages and cabins. Yes, it's all very Disney, but they do cultivate a marvelous image of old-fashioned booze-making.

(Photo: DPaul Brown)

Moonlite Bar-B-Q

Praise the lord and pass the biscuits! Yet another extended piece of DPaul's birthday arose (like the South, again) last night, as we thawed, heated and consumed one whole pound of Moonlite Bar-B-Q pulled pork from Owensboro, KY.

Moonlite is literally internationally famous. I've heard anecdotally that after the Bolshoi toured the U.S., when asked what they liked best about America, they said Moonlite Bar-B-Q. It's not hard to see why.

Owensboro is in the northwestern quarter of Kentucky, and is particularly famous for making barbeue with mutton as well as pork, which is far more prevalent in the South. During our last trip back, we had hoped to go to the International Bar-B-Q Festival there, but weather kept us away. So, it was very thoughtful of DPaul's parents to send Owensboro to us. (Tangentially, Owensboro is also the birthplace of Johnny Depp, another tasty morsel.)

Now, I come from the Northeast, where the word "barbecue" means meat on a grill. It wasn't until relatively recently that I came to know -- and love -- the wonders of smoky, saucy, slow-roasted and shredded meat. But now, it is tantamount in my mind as one of the great regional foods of America, up there with the Maine lobster roll, the New Orleans po'boy, chile verde and sopapillas in New Mexico and so many others.

Moonlite's 'que is without a doubt delish. The meat is more chopped and shredded rather than pulled, which creates a smoother texture overall interrupted with a few more sizable chunks. You can definitely taste the woodsy flavor from the smoking. The sauce is balanced and flavorful, with no one element overriding another: equal parts sweet, vinegary, spicy and rich. I like all the varieties of Southern barbecue, with a special fondness for the ultra-vinegary Carolina style, but this stuff rocks my world.

Cole slaw is the mandatory side-slash-condiment for barbecue. I like a nice scoop right on the sandwich itself for a little crunch and creaminess to offset the chewy tanginess of the meat. My slaw is simple yet serviceable:

1/2 head cabbage, shredded
1/4 c. mayonnaise
1/4 c. sugar
1/4 c. cider vinegar
1 Tbsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp celery seed
pinch of herbes de Provence (optional, but very nice)
pinch of salt and crack of pepper

Whisk mayonnaise, vinegar, sugar and spices in a large bowl until well blended. Add in cabbage and toss until thoroughly coated. Best if made an hour or two ahead.

Optionally: Salt cabbage and place in a kitchen towel in a colander over a large bowl; add a smaller bowl on top and add weight, pressing out the moisture of the cabbage for an hour or two. Rinse the cabbage and dry thoroughly with paper towels. Then continue as above. This creates a drier, richer and crunchier slaw, but it is more labor-intensive.

DPaul's parents also sent along a backup jar of BBQ sauce, as well as a nice slab of country ham, another Southern delicacy that is unattainable out on this coast. But most importantly, we have one more pound of delectable 'cue lurking in our freezer, waiting for when the craving strikes.

Moonlite Bar-B-Q Inn
2840 West Parrish Ave
Owensboro, Kentucky