It was a little drab, the kind of place you could drive past without noticing. It was a little timeworn, the kind of place you might drive past on purpose. Unless you knew better. Unless you knew that on the other side of those drab, timeworn, corrugated metal walls you’d find something more nourishing than you ever imagined.
Kepley’s Barbecue. Yes, -cue. If you spell it with a -que somebody is going to shake their head and say “bless your heart,” and not in a good way. Bar-B-Q. BBQ is also acceptable, or just Q if you’re short on time.
Now, if you know anything at all about the South, you know that good barbecue is not just a staple, it’s a religion. And as with every religion, there are different ways of worshiping. Wood-smoked or electric cooker. Pork shoulder or whole hog. Sliced or chopped. Lexington-style or Eastern. Red slaw or white. With or without extra dip, the sauce you dribble on your pork to give it that little extra punch. Everyone has their beliefs about which combinations are right and which establishments offer the most certain path to gustatory heaven…