Memoirs of a Southern Transplant

We Southerners have to stick together, especially here so far above the Mason-Dixon. As the marrow-crushing North Wind looms closer and closer by the day I reach out to the intentionally displaced. Why have we strayed so far from home? For me the answer is simple: "Let's get these people fed." The search for sustenance can be one of either brutal monotony, or, in the eyes and heart of the gourmand, a reason for living. So, with this mantra in mind I give you my humble contribution to the blogosphere. I will start with a blast from the past. Consider it a peace offering to all cultures and lifestyles very far detached from my own. I give you Polynesian style pulled pork, Mango and red cabbage coleslaw, and Caribbean black beans and rice. All I ask in return is the name and location of a cheap but awe-inspiring BBQ restaurant within 45 minutes of my home. I doubt that's too much to ask. And as for Dante's, you will never know what you passed up... Eat your heart out!