Grand Prize Winner of the Taste of the South Recipe Competition which was judged by the critically acclaimed, bestselling Southern food experts, the Lee Brothers. Passionate foodie.more»
South Philadelphia is known worldwide as the birthplace of the venerable Philly cheesesteak sandwich. This recipe takes South Philly even ’south-er’ by using pork barbeque in place of beef, and sweet Vidalia onions. It may be sacrilege to even imply that this sandwich may in fact be as good or better than the original, but taste for yourself and see.
For this sandwich, I used leftover barbeque and the tasty light tomato BBQ sauce from Trenton Bar-B-Q in Trenton, SC.
Here’s a photo of the Deep South Philly BBQ Cheesesteak Sandwich which uses leftover pulled pork barbecue instead of the more traditional beef.
Ingredients:
1 Tbsp oil
1 large Vidalia onion, chopped
2 cups leftover pork barbeque
4 - 6 slices mild white cheese (Provolone is traditional, but I used Muenster)
2 steak rolls
Leftover BBQ sauce
Mayo (optional)
Hot pickled peppers (optional)
PREPARATION:
Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Saute the onions until just colored (about 7 minutes.) Add the barbeque and stir until heated through.
In the pan, divide the barbeque and onions into two servings. Lay 2 - 3 slices of cheese over each, cover briefly until cheese is melted. Fill the rolls and top with BBQ sauce (or a mixture of BBQ sauce and mayo) and hot peppers.
After our Four Corners of Carolina BBQ Moonlight Buffet, I was fortunate (and very pleasantly surprised) to find myself with leftovers from some of the finest pulled pork barbeque establishments in the state. It’s a testament to the sheer wonderfulness of South Carolina ‘cue that after that evening’s bacchanal, I woke up wanting more!
So here’s a couple of ideas for a post-barbecue-bash breakfast made from leftovers:
Pork Barbecue and Cheddar Omelette With BBQ Hash Fritters
PREPARATION FOR THE PORK BBQ & CHEDDAR OMELET:
Heat about 1/2 to 3/4 cup of barbeque per omelet, moistening it with a little sauce (I used Trenton Bar-B-Q’s light tomato-based sauce for this.) Fold it into a 3 egg omelet with a good handful of grated cheddar cheese. Drizzle a little extra sauce on top.
PREPARATION FOR THE BBQ HASH FRITTERS:
Barbeque hash is very different from standard hash, but these fritters bridge the gap.
Combine equal parts of hash and rice, and for each cup add 2 tbsp chopped pickled jalapenos and 1/4 tsp black pepper. Taste for salt and add a pinch or two if needed, then mix in 2 tbsp flour per cup. Form into small patties and fry in oil until crispy, turning once.
Serve this breakfast with Sunbeam King Thin toast for an authentic touch.
Please join us tomorrow for BBQ Redo #2, when we’ll share the original recipe for our Deep South Philly BBQ Cheese Steak Sandwich, which combines some of the best flavors from the popular cuisines of the American South and Northern U.S.
Here’s a look back at the posts that appeared earlier in the week here on HuggingtheCoast.Com…please join us tomorrow for the start of next week’s exciting food features!
Redvand has made an interesting video which showcases the natural beauty of Charleston’s Audubon Swamp Garden of Magnolia Plantation which you can see below (or here).
2 Whole Redfish, Red Snapper, or other firm fleshed fish (scaled, gutted and trimmed of all fins)
1 Cup Flour, liberally seasoned with salt, pepper and cayenne
2 Tbsp Unsalted butter
1/4 Cup dry white wine
1 Recipe Creole Sauce, made with fish stock, and made extra thick
1 Lemon, thinly sliced
2 bunches fresh Thyme, 1/2 of which tied tightly with butcher’s twine
1 Bay Leaf
I’ll be doing an extensive post on boiled peanuts in the near future. In the meantime, here’s a recipe I came up with to serve as an appetizer at our recent BBQ party. I think it went over quite well, since reactions ran from “These are some damned good boiled peanuts!” to “Damn, these are some good boiled peanuts!”
Boiled peanuts are uniquely delicious and really easy to make. So easy, in fact, that if you try to pin down the method of preparation too much (like I did) you’ll just confuse yourself. Don’t worry about overcooking or anything else because boiled peanuts are very, very forgiving; they have a greater margin of error than any food I can think of.
Raw peanuts are sometimes called “green” peanuts, but that only refers to their un-dried state, not their color (the way un-dried wood is called “green”.) In the South, you can buy them in bulk at just about any supermarket or farmer’s market. If you’re outside of the South, you may be able to find raw peanuts at an Asian supermarket, or you can buy them online.
Here’s a photo of the Jalapeno Mesquite Boiled Peanuts below.
Ingredients:
2 lbs raw (“green”) peanuts
1/2 cup sliced pickled jalapeno peppers
2 -3 Tbsp mesquite smoke flavoring (use the purest you can find)
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/2 cup plain salt
1/4 cup seasoned salt
1 Tbsp whole black peppercorns
Water
PREPARATION:
Note: To prevent the peanuts from darkening, cook them in a non-aluminum pot.
If the peanuts are dusty, rinse them well. Put them in a large lidded stock pot with the seasonings and add enough water to cover by at least 2 inches (they’ll float, so push them down to check the level.) Some people use a plate to hold the peanuts down while cooking, but I never have and I don’t think it makes much difference.
Bring to a boil, then cover and reduce heat so that the peanuts remain at a strong simmer. After about 45 minutes, you want to start testing them, and test them every 20 minutes or so after that. They may take an hour to cook or they make take 3 hours; it really depends on how fresh they are, how much moisture they’ve retained, etc., etc. Don’t fret too much because you really have a huge margin of error. Just stir up the pot, take one or two out, let them cool a bit, then split the shell and taste the peanuts. What you’re looking for is a nice texture and flavor. Some folks like them al dente and some like them soft, but it really is up to you. If the texture is right but they’re not quite salty enough, turn the heat off and let them sit in the water for another 20 minutes and taste them again.
If you want to keep them hot but don’t want them any saltier, pour off half the cooking water and replace it with fresh and keep them on a very low heat.
On Monday, the folks at Foodbuzz have helped coordinate a wonderful series of blog posts featuring two dozen of their members simultaneously celebrating some of the best regional and local foods throughout the world.
(The Four Corners of Carolina BBQ Road Trip is part of FoodBuzz’s 24 Meals, 24 Hours, 24 Blogs, a worldwide event that took place in 24 cities on Saturday, September 20th)
(First Corner)
Thick billows of smoke were fleeing from the windows of the gray cinder block building like spirits from an exorcism, but no shouts of alarm rose with the smoke, no sirens cut into the cool morning air.
“Oh yes, oh yes,” I thought to myself as I wrapped duct tape around the steering column, “This is promising.”
The ‘house-afire’ atmosphere is business as usual at McCabe’s. The smokehouse, where the magic happens, is directly behind the restaurant. (If hunger, as the Spanish say, is the best sauce in the world, then the aroma of hickory smoke must be the best appetizer.) Inside, things were all hurry and scurry: McCabe’s wasn’t open yet, but they were preparing for the day’s inevitable siege.
“Are you the fella for the five pounds of barbeque?” the woman at the counter asked before I’d even had a chance to say hello.
“Uh, yep - that would be me.”
She finished taping down the lid of the stuffed-to-bursting take-out box and filled a small container with sauce. “Mr. McCabe’ll be out to see you in a minute. He’s just finishing up another order.”
Apparently I wasn’t the only one picking up a pre-opening order. Still, I was grateful that they’d remembered our conversation from the previous week and had let me in early so I could stay “on schedule.”
What they didn’t know was that I was already off schedule, thanks to a starter that decided to quit, rather inconveniently, on the morning of the trip. I woke my mechanic friend from a peaceful sleep and got his (somewhat grumpy) advice to “beat it with a hammer.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’d like to do. But what do I do really?”
“Seriously,” he said “beat on it with a hammer and try it again. If that doesn’t work, call a cab.”
Not wanting to spend the day watching a taxi meter climb into quadruple digits, I crawled under my truck and walloped the snot out of the starter, after which (believe it or not) the engine kicked over, and I was on my way. I didn’t know for sure if the truck would start again if I turned it off, but I knew with absolute certainty that at some point I would, no matter what, pull to a stop god-knows-where and reflexively turn it off. Hence duct taping the key in place; it’s easier to idiot-proof a system if you happen to know the idiot personally.
Since I was behind schedule, in addition to keeping my truck running the whole time like it was a getaway car, I would have to high-tail around and find a short cut or two. I did, however, still manage to take a small detour into the Bojangles drive-thru for sausage biscuits before hitting the highway. After all, a man has to keep his priorities straight, or chaos looms.
After he rang me up and wished me luck on my trip, I asked Mr. McCabe if he had any of the pork skins that I’d heard were not to be missed.
“Nope. Don’t have ‘em anymore. A fella comes and buys them all now. Don’t know what he does with them or where he sells ‘em.”
Oh well, I thought, scratch that idea. I was back in my truck and ready to leave when Mr. McCabe stuck his head out the front door, “Hold up just a minute.” He came back out with a small sandwich box.
“Just pulled these off one of the hogs,” he said, “Should have some nice smoke to ‘em”
Out on the road, I opened the box to find warm, crispy skins the color of fire opals. They were as smoky and rich as I’d hoped - and my first snack of the day.
There are still cotton fields along Rt 301, which cuts between two of South Carolina’s major highways, but not many. The fields are a poignant sight: the plants themselves are surprisingly pretty, the white bolls set against the darkening leaves and stems of the low bushes, but one can’t help but imagine what grueling, backbreaking work it must have been to harvest them by hand in the South’s merciless heat.
Cotton, so bright and pure-looking, casting a shadow under these blue skies.
(Second Corner)
There are four geographical regions of barbeque in South Carolina, with four distinct sauce types: Vinegar & Pepper; Mustard-based; Light Tomato; and Heavy Tomato.
South Carolina is the only state where all four are represented, and my goal was to acquire all four types in one day and bring them back to Charleston for a casual barbeque party/taste-testing. This would be no easy feat, requiring about 10 hours of driving to establishments that almost by definition seem to only be found on back roads.
Before embarking on this little adventure, I’d consulted with Lake E. High, Jr., the wise and kindly president of the South Carolina Barbeque Association. He recommended Hudson’s Smokehouse in Lexington, SC as having “100 mile BBQ” and an excellent example of the Heavy Tomato sauce more common further north in the state “if you don’t want to go all the way to Greenville.” I’d originally planned to take that long, long ride north, but decided to take Mr. High’s sage advice since I was already far behind schedule and wanted to get back before my guests got hungry enough to notice that my chubby spaniel bears a strong resemblance to a piebald pig and that I have a very large smoker and a pile of dry hickory logs in my backyard.
Hudson’s Smokehouse doesn’t look promising at first glance. It looks suspiciously like a chain restaurant trying a bit too hard to look “authentic.” There are far too many windows (never a good sign, according to Calvin Trillin), properly stained wood (i.e., not painted, hence, not peeling in that proper shack-like manner), and (perhaps most egregious) a very inviting wrap-around porch, fer cryin out loud.
Closer inspection, though, reveals a proper smokehouse and proper firewood brought in on a trailer hitched to the back of a worn but well-maintained 1956 Ford tractor driven by a nice ol’ fella named Floyd. No matter what the facade looks like, in the back they keep it real.
Hudson’s Smokehouse follows, according to Mr. High, the “modern approach of putting several sauces on the table,” including vinegar & pepper sauce, a slightly sweet mustard-based sauce, and the aforementioned Heavy Tomato, which resembles the ubiquitous “western” style, but tastes far different from those gluey, syrupy messes calling themselves “BBQ sauce.” Their barbeque comes unsauced, but lightly flavored with a pleasantly salty pepper vinegar.
Modern, yes - but the end result is reassuringly old-school and very, very tasty. I discovered this early on because the aroma from the foil pan was making me dizzy and I had to pull over and sample some for ‘research’ purposes. My second snack of the day.
Standing on the floor just inside the door of Hudson’s there is a large, nearly life-sized bronze pig with a slot in its back that serves as a piggy bank for charities. When I came in, a small white boy and a small African-American girl were sitting on the back, giggling and calling it their “pony” while the parents waited for their take-out orders.
Barbecue sauce may have boundaries in South Carolina, but barbeque doesn’t, and the shared love of it and other traditional Southern foods erases all lines. Class lines. Color lines. And even, in the case of this former Northerner who has been so generously welcomed here, the Mason-Dixon line.
(Third Corner)
Aiken County, S.C. is very pretty country, and my shortcut to Batesburg-Leesville took me past verdant, gently rolling slopes and quaint, rusted-roof shacks dating to who knows when; peach orchards (some vibrantly alive and carefully tended; others as overgrown as Mayan ruins), and what can only be described as sand farms: wide fields stretching to the horizon containing nothing but evenly spaced rows of tilled sand. A curiosity in this very green landscape.
Just over on the “other side of the tracks,” Jackie Hite’s Bar-B-Q has the appropriate painted exterior and an almost nondescript sign. That’s fine, though, because every man, woman, child, or talking dog for many miles around can tell you where Jackie Hite’s is. (I suspect every hog for miles around knows where it is too, but would probably rather not.)
Hite’s barbeque style is venerable; they do it up finely chopped and heavily sauced with a mustard sauce that is nothing at all like the sweetened mustard sauces popular here in Charleston. But that was exactly the reason I chose it: I wanted my guests to see the mustard-based sauce concept with fresh eyes and unbiased palates (otherwise, Bessinger’s golden nectar of a sauce would probably have an improper advantage.)
Folks go to Hite’s for their tasty-looking buffet (which I heroically bypassed), but they also go for barbeque in bulk: when I ordered 5 pounds, the woman behind the counter reached into a very large fridge right next to the register and extracted pre-packaged rolls of it wrapped in butcher paper.
In generally accepted barbeque joint theory, cleanliness is not a strict requirement; pit masters tend to take the long view of things, and unimportant short-term details like perfectly scrubbed floors just don’t engage their interest the way achieving barbeque perfection does. Still, the interior of Jackie Hites’ was shockingly clean to the point of looking like it had been sterilized. Even the ceiling gleamed. Imagine that.
Spotless as it may be, they do show an encouraging disdain for details in other ways. The customer before me at the take-out counter asked for salt and pepper. “We don’t have any packets,” the woman at the counter said, “but I can put you some in a napkin if you like.”
At this point in the trip, I was famished, and along with my order, I grabbed an overstuffed barbeque sandwich (my third snack of the day) for the ride to my next stop.
The shortcut to Trenton Bar-B-Q was quite a bit different from the ride to Jackie Hite’s. It took me through formerly bustling little hamlets that looked like they’d once been peach farm company towns, and down tertiary roads that looked like they were about to turn to gravel/dirt/cornfield at any moment.
When I arrived, I found an architecturally fascinating building-within-a-building that housed one of the most mouth-watering buffets I’ve ever seen. It took every bit of strength I had not to audibly whine at the thought that I couldn’t sit down and eat everything in sight until the sheriff or the paramedics came to haul me off. But the owner took pity on me and, in addition to my barbeque order, he sent me off with a big ol’ sample of the most tender and breathtakingly delicious barbecued pork ribs I’ve had the great good fortune to eat.
“Wait til you taste this,” he told me as he handed me my last snack of the day, “You’ve never had a rib like this anywhere.”
And he was so right.
(Fourth Corner…The Party at the End of the Road)
The party was a great success and a fine time was had by all. There was beer and boiled peanuts and stories and laughs (encouraged by a “canape” of skewered pineapple chunks that had spent a few days in a certain clear liquor known in the South as “squeezins”)
Along with five pounds of barbeque from each of four legendary joints, we had the simple traditional accompaniments of cole slaw, hash & rice, pickles, and Sunbeam King Thin bread. When the dust of competition settled (i.e., everyone had ‘taste-tested’ to the point of stupefaction), there was a tie for the title between McCabe’s thin, peppery vinegar-based sauce and Trenton Bar-B-Q’s mildly tangy, light tomato based sauce.
In truth, though, they were all excellent and worth the drive. Hudsons’ chopped barbeque was at least as yummy as McCabe’s long, shreddy chunks of whole hog, and Hite’s lemony mustard sauce was a complete reboot of the concept for the Charlestonians in attendance.
Best of all, it was a chance for all of us to share in a meal that was about celebrating diversity in our own state. South Carolina barbeque is very special, and like all regional and local specialties, it should be preserved and cherished.
The McD’s of the world want to inflict a terrible sameness on us by homogenizing our food choices. Local specialties are the antithesis - and the antidote - for the dumbing down of taste. Get out there and explore your region’s foods whatever they are, before they become a thing of the past. Celebrate life by tasting the differences!
McCabe’s Bar-B-Q
480 N. Brooks St.
Manning, SC
803-435-2833
The confusion begins with the name… so let’s start with what barbecue hash isn’t:
1. Barbeque hash isn’t “barbequed” i.e., it’s not cooked on a barbeque grill. It’s served with barbeque, which, in South Carolina at least, is a noun that refers to the meat itself (which is always pork, by the way) not the method of cooking.
2. Barbeque hash isn’t even a distant cousin to the greasy, canned corned-beef-and-potato stuff served at roadside diners everywhere
Barbeque hash is a side-dish staple at any self-respecting South Carolina barbecue shack or buffet. Beyond defining it as a thick savory liquid often ladled over rice (especially here in the Lowcountry,) it really is open to broad - often very broad - interpretation. Consider the three recipe links below, all from the same site, and all calling themselves South Carolina-style hash:
BBQ hash can range in color from orange-red to gray-brown and can contain a wide variety of vegetables (or no vegetables at all) and just about any meat (and meat “parts”) you can imagine. Spices, sauces, and other condiments often find their way in, and their identities are often jealously guarded. The texture ranges from applesauce smooth to sausage gravy chunky. It can be peppery, hot, tangy, sweet - or any combination thereof.
Barbeque hash, in short, has a broad mandate and is limited by few requirements except that it be flavorful, tasty, and addictive. This recipe was inspired by the hash at Duke’s in North Charleston, where they keep it simple with just four main ingredients: pork barbeque, potatoes, onions, and ketchup. Here, I use both white and sweet potatoes, and use finely minced country ham (the real stuff!) for its inimitable flavor.
Horseradish and a good dose of pepper “bring the zing” and balance the sweetness very nicely.
Here’s a photo of the Sweet Potato and Country Ham BBQ Hash below.
Ingredients:
2 lb lean country ham, cut into small chunks
2 lbs russet potatoes, peeled
2 lbs sweet potatoes, peeled
2 lbs yellow onions, peeled
Water
1 tsp cider vinegar
3 Tbsp prepared horseradish
1/2 cup ketchup
1 Tbsp Kitchen Bouquet or equivalent
1 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp celery salt
1 Tbsp black pepper
PREPARATION:
Fry the country ham chunks in a heavy skillet over medium heat until lightly colored, stirring frequently. Set aside to cool.
In a food processor, grate or mince the russets, sweet potatoes, and onions and place in a large pot. Add about 3 cups of water and the cider vinegar and bring just to a boil. In the meantime, finely mince the country ham in the food processor and add to the potatoes and onions. Stir in the horseradish, ketchup, Kitchen Bouquet, Worcestershire, and celery salt, and cook over very low heat for 1 hour, stirring frequently and adding more water as needed (you want a ‘thick soup’ consistency.)
Add the black pepper, taste for salt (add a bit of plain salt, if necessary) and cook 15 minutes more. Serve over Carolina rice.
Please join us tomorrow for the seventh day of this week’s Southern Comfort Foods Series when we’ll be sharing details, photos, and memories about a very special culinary road trip where we’ll explore the four corners of Carolina BBQ.
Please join us tomorrow for the sixth day of this week’s Southern Comfort Foods Series when we share our recipe for Sweet Potato and Country Ham BBQ Hash.
Please join us tomorrow when we start the month of October by sharing our original recipe for Savory Mustard Pork Wontons.
Please join us tomorrow for BBQ Redo #2, when we’ll share the original recipe for our Deep South Philly BBQ Cheese Steak Sandwich, which combines some of the best flavors from the popular cuisines of the American South and Northern U.S.
On Monday, the folks at Foodbuzz have helped coordinate a 
Best of all, it was a chance for all of us to share in a meal that was about celebrating diversity in our own state. South Carolina barbeque is very special, and like all regional and local specialties, it should be preserved and cherished.
1 Comment »