Every major world religion has their holy place. For Catholics, it’s the Vatican. For Jews, Jerusalem. For Muslims, it’s Mecca. For the BaconMedic and others who feel authentic Que is a religious experience, we have 4 holy lands, each filled with wonderful places of worship that serve up the holiest of meats. The four holy lands, also known as Barbeque regions, are Kansas City, Texas, Memphis, and North Carolina; each one with very specific styles of smoking meat. And like most major religions, the differences are often significant, and debate over which is ‘correct’ can spark a verbal war as intense as an argument over religion. To sauce or not? Beef or pork? Hickory or oak? And like all religions, the only correct answer is the one you believe in your heart is correct.

To those of us serious about our BBQ religion, a pilgrimage to one or more of these regions is a must. Just like Catholics wanting to celebrate Mass at the Vatican, we yearn to worship at such temples as Franklin BBQ, the Salt Lick, Interstate BBQ and more.

While I have been fortunate to do a lot of traveling in my lifetime, it wasn’t until summer of 2015 that I made my first pilgrimage. My good buddy Mike was stationed in Missouri for an extended training mission and invited me out there for a long weekend in KC. How could I say no to a guys weekend with a great guy like Mike? However, unlike our younger years which would have seen a couple of nights of heavy drinking and trips to the nudie bar, us old dudes hit the BBQ trail. First stop was Gates BBQ and I knew I was hooked. The line, the workers shouting at you to order, the succulent pork and amazing sauce. I knew I wanted more, and the next day we were in the world famous Arthur Bryant’s, then later off the beaten path into Missouri to a little unknown but amazing place called Branding Iron in Harrisonville, Missouri. Sadly, poor planning on my part necessitates a repeat trip, as Joe’s Kansas City BBQ, one of the most well known haunts was closed on Sundays – my last day. I left there with a need to go back and take care of some unfinished business. And I knew I was ready to focus on visiting the other 3 regions as quickly as I possibly could.

Texas was next up, and last spring flew into Dallas and hit the road with my rented Mustang convertible. 12 meals in 5 days at the most famous of restaurants including Franklin BBQ, the Salt Lick, Coopers, Blacks, Kreuz and more. It was there that I found out that beef brisket doesn’t have to be dry and overcooked and I rapidly changed my loyalty to this meat over my usual love for swine.

Two down and two to go. Memphis was next up. I knew they were a pork region, and pulled pork as well as dry rubbed pork ribs were going to be the main selections. I flew into Nashville almost as an afterthought, but was pleasantly surprised by its collective awesomeness, not just as a food city, but a rapidly growing area with some amazing things to do. And do those things I did for a couple of days, but that’s for a future blog; this story starts at day 4 after a 3 hour car ride down interstate 40 to the Birthplace of Rock & Roll. I couldn’t wait…

Memphis

So I have to admit something. I’m not much of a country music guy, which for a southern born, NASCAR lovin’, BBQ eatin’ freak like myself is decidedly unexpected. I love Rock N Roll. I love putting another dime in the jukebox, baby. Wait, no, sorry. But you get the point. I also love the Blues. So aside from worshipping at some of the famous BBQ joints of Memphis, I was looking forward to going down to Beale Street and enjoying the bar scene and the great live music options. I was like a little kid heading to Disney for the first time, and when we entered the city I saw the awesome skyline, the Mississippi River, and… a huge glass Pyramid?

Ok, so this was a new one on me. Had I fallen asleep and driven to Las Vegas? How had I missed this bit of info about Memphis? Evidently I had spent way too much time focusing on where to eat rather than what to see. So I’ll spare you the history other than to say it was initially the main events arena for the city and it closed when the Grizzlies came to town, its now a gigantic Bass Pro Shop store complete with a hotel (Yes, I googled that).

Memphis itself is an odd city with a very distinct culture – exactly what guys like me love. Normal equates boring to me, and Memphis is anything but normal. We checked into the iconic Peabody Hotel, famous for its twice-daily duck march. At 11am, 5 mallard ducks are marched from a $200000 rooftop penthouse, down an elevator, to the lobby, across a red carpet, to an Italian marble fountain in the lobby in front of crowds of several hundred cheering them on with the music of John Philip Sousa in the background. They then ‘work’ until 5pm when the ceremony is repeated and they return to the duck palace. We made it just in time to order a couple of local brews and watch the weirdness. Welcome to Memphis – I knew I was going to like this place.

The first stop in this weird place was of course Beale Street, just 2 blocks away from our hotel. Loaded with bars and restaurants with enough neon to make most casinos jealous, we had a lot of options to choose from. But there was just one on the radar. In keeping with the weirdness of the Memphis ducks, we headed straight for Silky O’Sullivans, an Irish pub that also happened to be a pretty good BBQ choice. But that’s not why we went. They are most well known for Irish Diving Goats. Yeah, you read that right. Attached to the outdoor courtyard is a goat pen, complete with goats that evidently not only jump all over the place, but also drink a lot of beer.

So we found ourselves a table next to the goat pen, ordered some brew & Que and waited. Yes, there were goats. No, there wasn’t any diving, nor was there any goat beer drinking (My theory is PETA may have stuck their noses into this practice, but I honestly don’t know). We ended up spending the majority of the night there though. There was a great band playing in the courtyard, and dueling pianos inside. We split our time between the two and had a great time, with cold local beers and some pretty tasty dry rub pork ribs. But my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t wait to hit the major BBQ joints in the area, because as good as Silky's was, I knew deep down that eating barbecue at ground zero of the biggest tourist spot in the city probably wasn’t my best choice. The night flew by and the next thing I knew it was almost 1 am. Time to make the stagger back to the Peabody, the longest two block walk ever. As we left Beale Street, I was amazed at the line of people waiting to enter the area at a security checkpoint that didn’t exist when we had arrived 7 hours earlier. I was a little jealous at these young people and their ability to stay up all night partying, that’s a skill I lost years prior. I walked back looking forward to my head hitting the pillow, wondering if the ducks had the same pillows as the rooms.

7am, my usual wake up time, came quickly. The sun was searing through the window and I wondered why it was so bright when I realized it was actually 10am. Way past my usual wake up time. I guess the extra couple of brews had more of an effect on this old body than I thought. I broke into a mild panic, there where ribs to eat, sandwiches to devour. After a quick shower, we were out the door taking a brisk walk on a sunny Memphis morning. South Main Street was a ghost town, I suspect I wasn’t the only one feeling the previous evenings beer. As much as I love great Que, a moment like this called for something stronger. Something that will cure what ails ya'. Something… greasy. With the help of Yelp, we started south to Earnestine & Hazel’s, one of the top rated dive bars in the country. But it wasn’t cheap beer we were seeking, although that certainly was a draw, it was the famous Soul Burger. And this one is legitimately famous, not some slogan thought up by a 22 year old kid with a marketing degree from the University of Annoying Millennials. No, the Soul Burger has been consistently listed as one of the top burgers in the nation. Just what the doctor ordered. When we finally found this hole in the wall we paused. Not because we were scared – and honestly, many others would have been – but because we were taking in the absolute beauty of this completely run down building. We walked in and were immediately greeted by the bar tender/cook and told to sit anywhere, we quickly selected a couple of seats at the bar with the six patrons who had already arrived at 11am on a Sunday morning. In under a minute we had a couple of ice-cold Ghost River beers and there were two burgers on the historic griddle with a small pile of onions next to them. 20 minutes later and I was completely rebooted. 100% ready for more adventure. But before leaving, we were invited to check out the old whorehouse upstairs. Yes, you read that correctly. Evidently not only is this dive bar home of cold beer and great burgers, it was also one of the busiest houses of ill repute in the state. Long since closed, the corridor and rooms were more than just a little creepy; it wasn’t a surprise when we later found out that we were in one of the most haunted places in Memphis, which is a standard stop on the local ghost tours.

We exited into the heat of South Main Street and headed straight to out next stop, one of the top meat joints in Memphis. Arriving at Central BBQ there was already a small line forming outside the door but that didn’t deter us in the least bit. Thankfully, it moved quickly and within a matter of minutes I had a pork sandwich with beans and coleslaw sitting in front of me. The first bite confirmed my thoughts – there was a reason that Central BBQ was one of the best. The meat was perfectly smoked and tender, the sauce complimented the meat the way it was supposed to.

The remainder of the day involved exploring Memphis: a visit to the National Civil Rights Museum next to the Lorraine Motel, site of the assassination of Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., Mud Island River Park along the banks of the Mississippi, and the inside of the Bass Pro Shop. Before you knew it, it was dinner and we were in the car headed for our next stop: Jim Neely’s Interstate BBQ, famous for BBQ spaghetti.

After a quick drive by of Graceland (confession: not being a fan of Elvis, we decided to pass on the tour), we pulled into a rather sketchy looking building on a highway in the middle of an industrial zone. The tourist attractions of downtown Memphis seemed years away, but one thing every BBQ lover knows is to never judge a book by its cover. In we went and we were welcomed like relatives who just arrived from a long journey, we were seated right away and soon after had a couple of gigantic glasses of sweet tea. My order was placed quickly: wet ribs (meaning ribs with sauce), beans and Mac & Cheese. But that’s not why I was here: the spaghetti was on my radar, and within minutes I had a plate in front of me.

The pasta was a couple of minutes beyond al dente, similar to the consistency of Chef Boyardee yet with a flavor profile unlike anything I had ever tasted. The perfect amount of chopped pork and sweet sauce made every bite amazing, this dish absolutely lived up to its billing. The ribs, as delicious as they were, definitely came in second to the spaghetti. As we digested, we looked at the multiple vacation photos of past vacations taken by owners Jim & Barbara Neely before heading out to our last stop of the evening, Beale Street Landing, along the banks of the Mississippi. There couldn’t possibly be a better ending to a great day: sitting in a rocking chair watching the sunset over the river with a couple of cold city brews while talking to one of the locals. This is what life in the south is all about. After a good night sleep and a quick lunch at the famous Gus’s Fried Chicken, it was back in the rental for the long drive back to reality.

BBQ spaghetti at Jim Neeley's Interstate BBQ. With the trip to Memphis just for this.

Gus's Fried Chicken before the long drive back to Nashville

Nothing like a cold local brew while watching the sun set over the Mississippi

Jim Neeley's does more than just BBQ spaghetti

The BaconMedic is a master at killing fake electronic animals at shooting galleries

Am I in Memphis? Or Vegas?

Seriously... One of the best burgers in the country, the Soul Burger, can be found at this dive bar, which also happens to be an old whore house, which also happens to be haunted. And Ernestine & Hazel's is a must if you are in Memphis.