Red-faced but smiling

Jump to Comments

True confession time.

My friend Jaybo brought a care package, a token of his love, back to the office in early February.

His Valentine was pork. We’re guys; that’s how we roll.

Pulled pork, to be precise, from a place I have never been to, in Springville. It’s called Smokin’ Tom’s (555 S. Cascade Dr. (Rt. 219), 592-7137). Tom does the barbecue, and his wife – I’m going to guess she goes by Sue Z – makes homestyle pies.

You ought to try this, Jaybo said, handing me the parcel of pig. “Sweet,” I said.

Now, there are people who say similar things to me, only to get polite noises, because I am thinking “I might take you more seriously if I didn’t know you love Domino’s pizza.”

Jaybo is not one of those people. He has a hardwood-fired barbecue rig, and he knows where to find some mighty fine bison. His mustard-maple barbecue sauce is something to behold.

So when he hands you a little tub of pulled pork, it’s like a dozen long-stemmed roses and a box of Godiva truffles. It’s from the heart.

You make pulled pork by taking pork shoulder – which is called butt, no one knows why – and cooking it at about 250 degrees over smoky heat until the gnarly collagen starts to dissolve. A ten pound hunk of meat might lose three or four pounds of moisture and fat before it’s done, in 10 to 12 hours. When the meat is done it’s loose, soft. You can pluck the bone from its center with no resistance.

Smokin’ Tom’s pork was fine, its flavor an outstanding synthesis of salty, smoky and tenderness, with the sweetness that only develops in pork with long, low, slow heat.

Corn bread’s only 50 cents – what a deal

Here’s the confession part: I Hoovered the stuff down so fast I didn’t even think of a picture until it was too late.

Jaybo snapped a picture of the menu board, though. Soon, I hope to see it for myself.

2 Comments

Filed under pork, restaurants