Now, in Memphis, Tennessee, where I come from, barbecue is a religion, and if I haven’t heard of miracle healings and raisings-from-the-dead attributed to somebody’s secret sauce recipe, surely it’s because I wasn’t paying attention.
Being from Memphis, and subscribing as I do to a creed of orthodoxy which defines “barbecue” as slow-smoked pork and “barbecue sauce” as a concoction of tomato and vinegar, faintly sweet and not too thick, I tend to mistrust the claims of other sauces, viewing them as heretical departures from what is good and holy.
So I raise a skeptical eyebrow at what the Burnt Sacrifice BBQ Sauce people have to say about their products:
The sauces are really all about the progress of the soul. First you start with Saint’s Sauce which is our regular sauce. The saints are then tried with Fiery Trials which is very hot, and then when you have lived your life you go to the Judgment Day which is 300% habanero heat. A lot of people will sweat on that Great Day, but for others it will be sweet and jubilant. So I just mixed those both together.
Hello? Are you from Memphis? I mean to say. It’s all very well to bang on about “sweet and jubilant” mixed together, but are you sound? Is this a valid barbecue sauce?
One simply cannot be too careful.
I haven’t tried this myself, so I have no idea how to rate it. The fact that it might not be barbecue sauce qua barbecue sauce doesn’t rule out the possibility of its being delicious.
Rating: 85 out of 100
June 8th, 2009 | 5:14 pm
This analogy is quite “silly”. The author should talk about “meat” and not sauce.
June 8th, 2009 | 8:04 pm
The picture of the label made me think the name of the stuff was “Burnt Orifice.” :-)
June 9th, 2009 | 3:22 pm
[...] Sally Thomas brings you “Burnt Offering” Barbeque Sauce. [...]
June 9th, 2009 | 8:32 pm
We’ll have to send seven of your DNA CELLS in Temporary Purgatory because of this post but sinner vic will get to show them around hell where they’ll really find themselves in The HOT Sauce! :)
June 10th, 2009 | 12:56 am
Sounds like you Memphians are the Roman Catholics of the barbecue religion. Us Kansas City folks might be a little more free-wheeling, the Protestants of the bunch, though we’ve got our own strictures, too, so maybe we’re Calvinists (or maybe that’s the Texans?). I know who the Eastern Orthodox are: those Carolina mustard folks. We can accept that it’s barbecue, but it’s so out of our sphere that we sometimes don’t know what to make of it.
June 10th, 2009 | 10:08 am
You got it right, Ethan. And now I sojourn among the Carolinians, a stranger in a strange land . . .
So, you guys are beef, right? I don’t know that much about Kansas City BBQ. What are its doctrine and dogma?
Incidentally, if people are looking for really iconic BBQ sauce, I would recommend Corky’s, from Memphis. I’ll have to go looking for a link . . . or else you’ll all need to invite my mother to come and visit. She’s bringing us some, yea even this weekend. And there will be rejoicing.
June 10th, 2009 | 10:09 am
Somehow I think that more than seven of my DNA cells will be spending time in Purgatory, Victor.
June 10th, 2009 | 10:37 pm
Actually, don’t all my cells have DNA?
June 18th, 2009 | 3:53 pm
If you want something truly unusual, go down to Savannah some time and try the sauce there. Most confoundedly strange thing I’ve ever tasted, but surprisingly good, in a heretical sort of way. Of course, I had always thought a Carolina sauce was more vinegary—if it’s more of a mustard base, it might be quite like what we had in Savannah.
June 18th, 2009 | 4:24 pm
By the way, Titus, I think I accidentally deleted your comment on an older post on God and real estate. I’m actually sort of relieved that anyone bothers to go back and read the older posts, especially as all the images attached to them seem to have gotten lost in all the blog changeovers.
June 18th, 2009 | 4:26 pm
Oop, no I didn’t. Never mind. Thanks for filling me in re traditions involving statues.
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