Carry Me Back: Lamenting Foods Missing in Appalachia

While researching an upcoming piece on one of my great passions, barbecue, it occurred to me that Appalachia–or at least, my small corner of it–has no native barbecue tradition. While we now have skeevy little barbecue joints, like any other self-respecting region in the South, they aren’t decades old and layered with the residue of smoke from 10,000 hogs. We don’t have time-honored establishments where the guy behind the counter will gladly hand a robber his till, but would haul out a sawed-off shotgun if you tried to take his sauce recipe. Continue reading

Midnight Moon at Boucherie

Moonshine is one of America’s oldest and purest native spirits. Just saying the word conjures up images of back country stills, bell jars, nooks in mountains, and men dressed in overalls with long grey beards. I once brought a jar of apple pie flavored Moonshine to a party, and as I offered it around, everyone involuntarily took a step back, as if being too close to the fumes was toxic. Then they all had to have a sip, just to see what it was really like. Continue reading