Discussing barbecue or bbq can lead to arguments. There are strong opinions of what is true barbecue. Experts will tell you tales of smoke, heat, wood, water, fire, dry or wet, brine or no brine, cut, butt, baby back ribs, spare ribs, pork shoulder, brisket, beef ribs, East coast, Carolina, Florida… the terminology goes on and on. Plus now in the DC area, there is Korean and Salvadoran barbecue and all the fusions in between.
Barbecue is quintessentially American. The word comes from the native word barbacoa from the island of Hispaniola (today’s Haiti and Dominican Republic). The idea is that long slow applications of heat will improve tough cuts of meat. Everyone used to use all the parts of the animal and turn them into sausages etc. but here are the most famous types (for a good read, try this article) explained simply:
Carolina style is pork usually slow smoked for 12-20 hours, served pulled apart, tossed in a vinegar dressing, and served in a bun.
Memphis style is pork ribs (and shoulder) in a dry rub. The shoulder is pulled and served in a bun.
Top platter has chicken, Texan brisket, Memphis style pork, Carolina style pulled pork, sausage, and turkey.
Texas is all about beef. Brisket is the most famous type but there are also tri-tips. The best barbecue in the DC area is 2fifty.
Brisket can be as juicy as this but it is hard to find. This was at Rose’s Luxury years ago.
Kansas City was once the meat packing center of the US. The barbecue here is ribs with sauce.
Kansas style ribs on the upper left smothered in sauce, pulled pork, sauce, coleslaw, brisket, sausage, and wings. Fries in this style are a new fusion-y thing.
Apart from the meat, the sides are a big part of barbecue. I once had the best garlic coleslaw at a barbecue joint in Texas. I tried to buy the sauce but they said that it was only for eating in the restaurant. Darn.
Every year there are barbecue competitions and secrets about sauce, rub mix, and every other element are guarded in bank vaults.
If you are here on Memorial Day weekend, enjoy the smell of outdoor parties.
Italians love food. It is an integral part of their family structure. This is evident in the story of balsamic vinegar. In Emilia Romagna, Italy, balsamic vinegar started out as a daughter’s dowry. No gold, no houses, just the sweet product of 25 years of nurturing. This is no longer the case, but in some families, the balsamic production continues. Some also make it when they have a son.
Traditionally, when a baby girl was born, her father would make a “mother” barrel of balsamic vinegar. There is sometimes a misconception that the grapes used to make balsamic are left over from making wine. Not so. The grapes are crushed into a “must” just like in wine making, but then, a mother yeast (like sourdough starter) is added to the mother barrel. From this mother barrel, a “battery” of progressively smaller barrels are filled.
Normally, one should wait till the daughter got married, or 25 years to started imbibing in the balsamic. If the woman got married before she turned 25, she could decide to leave the battery in her paternal home or take it to her new home. On the old battery frames, one can still see the name of the girl painted on the frame, as these are passed down through generations.
So you aren’t supposed to eat the balsamic before 25 years. But, this rarely happened. Also, the balsamic evaporates. To fill up the evaporated balsamic, the smallest barrel in the battery is filled from the next big one and so on. The largest of the battery barrels is then filled from the mother barrel. Which is itself filled with fresh grape must.
The ladder up to the first floor of La Vecchia Dispensa’s tower is almost vertical.
This is how one gets “100 year old” balsamic vinegar (where a percentage of the balsamic is from a barrel made 100 years ago). I tried it and it was too musty for me. The barrels used can be old whisky casks and the barrels can be made from many types of wood. The bunghole of the barrel is loosely covered with a stone and/or a lid with a doily. The acid from the balsamic eats away at the stones so it’s cool to see how strong those bacteria really are.
Now, to what it’s called. In Europe and Italy, one must call real balsamic, “Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale di Modena” — if it’s from Modena which is one of the few places where the real stuff comes from. The bottles are distinctive so that it’s hard to copy. There are many fakes. Most of what is sold is fake. The real stuff will not be sour and bite you when you try it. It won’t make you gag. The real stuff is subtle and sweet. With a slight tang. It will be complex. It’s also not impossibly expensive. 25 euro for a small bottle. But that’s the kind that one sips on a spoon or drizzles on a piece of parmesano reggiano.
One can still see graffiti from prisoners from when this was a jail.
Most of the acetaia (ah-chey-tie-ah) will sell salad vinegar products that you will like. Real aceto balsamico is not for salad. That’s how you can make it last a long time. Salad dressings are better with apple cider or red wine vinegar. Balsamic is too strong. Also, all those thick balsamic sauces in squeeze bottles are not made with the real deal.
Going for a tasting at a real acetaia is eye opening. It really is. We went to three. La Vecchia Dispensa is fantastic as a destination. Great tour, tasting, and shop. It’s in a fancy building and the tower is medieval (it was a jail/dungeon before), in the picturesque Castelvetro (one can also go on the less expensive tour that does not include climbing up into the claustrophobic medieval castle tower). The tour guide also speaks English, well.
At Acetaia San Matteo, you get a family feel and the son-in-law who shows you around is enthusiastic but doesn’t speak English. It’s marvelous but almost has a Swiss chalet feel. We also went to the a place that claims to be the oldest (they claim that their family has been selling it for 400 years) but the museum is now in a new, from 2017, farmstead. Also, their vinegar wasn’t tasty. And the place had a slight theme park feel. Too touristy. Enough about them. Go to Castelvetro and La Vecchia Dispensa.
When we were in the tower for our tour with La Vecchia Dispensa, we could see the photos of the families who maintain their balsamic there. It’s a heartwarming idea of familial love.
Oddly, or perhaps not, most of these places also sell jams and other products.
There is a lot more to aceto balsamico than I imagined. It was also a delight to go to the acetaia with a balsamic fanatic. When we got to the San Matteo location, my Italian wasn’t up to explaining things so I just blurted out “we are balsamic fanatics!” We were welcomed with a big grin.
