The event was a joint venture of Slow Food East Bay and B.A.C.C.H.U.S., two of the local chapters of Slow Food. The organization is devoted, among other things, to preserving traditional foods and educating people about them. The two convivia (as the local chapters are called) worked together to create an event which would educate people about traditional barbecue, at the same time raising money for the organization.
The first part of the day had the 200 or so attendees watching "Smokestack Lightning," a documentary film about barbecue produced by David Bransten & Scott Stohler, based on a book of the same name by Lolis Elie (who also directed the movie). The movie is primarily interviews with some of the great barbecuers of the country. The film makers tell the story of barbecue by letting its greatest practitioners tell their stories. And in the microcosms of these people's lives, you get a feel for the larger story of barbecue.
As barbecue is entwined with American culture, its story in turn tells the story of this country. From its introduction via the slaves of the American South, to the hypocrisy of the segregated South where barbecue joints would have African American cooks but only white people could eat there (says one interviewee, "we couldn't eat there, but they had black people doing the barbecue, so it must have been good"), to modern day America where not only African Americans but whites are barbecue experts ("it came from the black people, but the white people stole it and now we make more money at it. I hate to say it, but it's true." says another).
But there is a parallel story of barbecue, one which touches on another aspect of American history. The barbecue of Southern Texas comes not from the slave trade, but from the Hispanic population. Barbacoa (one of the theoretical origins of our own "barbecue") involves digging a pit, burying a beef head in it, and cooking it for the better part of a day. It has its own heritage rooted in Hispanic history, but its most traditional form is dying out. The state no longer allows people to dig a pit for barbecuing, and those families which still do it are allowed only because of grandfather clauses. But the younger members of these families don't want to do the work: getting up well before the sun to dig the pit, chopping up the cattle heads and tending the pit for hours on end. There has been some adaptation; some families now do their barbacoa in stainless steel tubs, but I'm sure the zealots would say it's not the same.
And even as barbacoa in its most authentic form is very definitely dying out, other versions of traditional barbecue are beginning to disappear as well. In many cases, the barbecue masters leave descendants, either physical or spiritual, who carry the torch forward. But in some cases, there is no one left to continue a barbecue master's tradition. And when those people die, their secrets die with them.
One of the people who is continuing the tradition is Bob Kantor, the owner of Memphis Minnie's. Inspired by the original book by Lolis Elie, Bob traveled around the country and learned from the great pit bosses mentioned in it, and brought what he learned back to his popular San Francisco barbecue joint.
As you can imagine, we had quite a treat for the second part of the day--a lunch featuring the beef brisket and pork butt of Memphis Minnie's ("Best butt in California!" says another of their shirts). The former is cooked somewhere between 15 and 18 hours, and the latter is cooked between 14 and 16 hours. And in this case, the pork butt was provided by Niman Ranch.
While certainly the highlight of the food, the rest of the meal was delicious as well. We had side dishes from the wonderful Hawthorne Lane restaurant, and a Peach, Nectarine, and Plum crisp from Frog Hollow Farm. The food was accompanied not only by beer on tap from Pyramid Brewery & Alehouse but bluegrass music from Ran Bush & The Whiskey Brothers Band. All in all, a great way to learn what barbecue is about and to gain a new appreciation for this important part of the American landscape.