“Moss knows more about the history of barbecue than anyone I’ve yet encountered, and nothing like this book has ever before been published. To his great credit, he treats his subject seriously but not solemnly. Barbecue is simply a lot of fun to read about. At least it is in Moss’s hands.”
—John Shelton Reed, coauthor of Holy Smoke: The Big Book of North Carolina Barbecue
Americans enjoy reading about barbecue almost as much as they love eating it. Books on the subject cover almost every aspect of the topic: recipes, grilling tips, restaurant guides, pit-building instructions, and catalogs of exotic variants such as Mongolian barbecue and Indian tandoor cooking. Despite this coverage, the history of barbecue in the United States has until now remained virtually untold.
Barbecue: The History of an American Institution draws on hundreds of sources to document the evolution of barbecue from its origins among Native Americans to its present status as an icon of American culture. This is the story not just of a dish but of a social institution that helped shape the many regional cultures of the United States. The history begins with British colonists' adopting barbecuing techniques from Native Americans in the 16th and 17th centuries, moves to barbecue's establishment as the preeminent form of public celebration in the 19th century, and is carried through to barbecue’s iconic status today.
From the very beginning, barbecues were powerful social magnets, drawing together people from a wide range of classes and geographic backgrounds. Barbecue played a key role in three centuries of American history, both reflecting and influencing the direction of an evolving society. By tracing the story of barbecue from its origins to today, Barbecue: The History of an American Institution traces the very thread of American social history.
What Reviewers are Saying
“Amazing as it seems, in all the welter of barbecue books extant, there is not a single one that comes close to recording this history. The effort has been long overdue, but here it is, finally, and it fills some huge gaps in the long and colorful story of this food tradition. I venture to guess that if the word gets around that a real social history of barbecue is on the market, it will stir up some genuine interest among the tens of thousands of Americans who love this subject. It’s truly the first comprehensive history of American barbecue.”
—John Egerton, author of Southern Food: At Home, on the Road, in History
"If you enjoy reading about barbecue history, then this book is a must-read for you. . . . To reveal much more will only deprive you of the joy of reading from those pages. This is a book you'll want to pick up soon." —Doug Mosley, National Barbecue News
"Moss shows [that] barbecue is a perfect example of the way Americans continue to reinvent themselves and their traditions, creating at least a nominal continuity even as the ways we live, and eat, change beyond recognition.
— Adam Kirsch, The Barnes and Noble Review
Excerpt from Chapter 5 of Barbecue: The History of an American Institution
The late 19th Century was the era of “barbecue men,” experienced cooks who became famous in their communities as masters of the pit and were in high demand to cook at public festivals and private functions. It was during this era that hash, the classic South Carolina specialty, came into prominence. A thick gravy made from pork and various pig organ meats, hash is generally served over white rice (though sometimes grits or bread are used instead), and it is almost exclusively considered a side dish to accompany barbecue, not a meal unto itself.
Hash appears to have originated sometime prior to the Civil War in the counties on either side of the Savannah River, which forms the border between Georgia and South Carolina. Estrella Jones, a former slave who was born on Powers Pond Place near Augusta, Georgia, recalled that when she was a child, the slaves would sometimes steal hogs from other plantations and “cook hash and rice and serve barbecue.” In 1861, at the opening of the Civil War, a barbecue was held to honor the Edgefield Riflemen, who hailed from the county in South Carolina just across the Savannah River from Augusta, as they prepared to leave for battle. The menu included “barbecued meats, and hash.”
On one level, hash is a way to use all of the pig slaughtered for a barbecue. In 19th century accounts, it is sometimes referred to as “giblet hash” or “liver and lights hash.” In most early versions, the cook would start with a hog’s head, the liver, and other organ meats and cook them with water in an iron stew pot over an open fire. Like the original Brunswick Stew recipes from Virginia, this combination was slowly simmered for many hours—sometimes a full day—until the ingredients had all broken down into a thick, consistent gravy-like liquid. Some cooks would add a few other ingredients—including red pepper, mustard, onion, and potatoes—but in general hash has always depended upon the slow-simmered meats for its rich, hearty flavor.
By the 1880s, hash was being served at barbecues as far north as Newberry, SC, and as far South as Macon in central Georgia—much farther south than hash is found today. In fact, there seems to be a good bit of confusion in central Georgia between hash and Brunswick Stew. Sheriff John W. Callaway for Washington, Georgia, always called his barbecue side dish “hash”, but reporters frequently labeled it “Brunswick Stew.” But it doesn’t seem merely a renaming of a single recipe, for, according to a 1907 newspaper account, a Christmas barbecue Callaway cooked for Wilkes County convicts included “several gallons of hash and a like quantity of Brunswick Stew.”
It is possible that what Georgians call Brunswick Stew today actually evolved out of the hash tradition as a variant of the original recipe. Visiting the Cotton States and International Exposition in Atlanta in 1895, Maude Andrews of Harper’s Weekly sampled Sheriff Wilkes’s famous stew and claimed that it, “for reasons not altogether clear even to its maker, bears the mysterious name of Brunswick.” Andrews got the recipe from one of the black cooks, and its formula is remarkably similar to that of classic South Carolina hash, with a few additions: “[Y]er jest takes the meat, de hog’s haid, an’ de libbers, and an’ all sorts er little nice parts, an’ yer chops it up wid corn and permattuses, an’ injuns an’ green peppers, an’ yer stews and stews tell hit all gits erlike, an’ yer kain’t tell what hit’s made uv.”
Hash remains an integral part of the Midlands South Carolina barbecue tradition today, where it is served over white rice at barbecue joints from Columbia down to Charleston. The hearty gravy is barely known beyond the borders of the Palmetto State, and visiting diners find it as puzzling as the region’s signature mustard-based barbecue sauce. In Georgia, Brunswick Stew reigns supreme as the standard barbecue side dish. A lot of hot air has been expended in the debate with Virginia over which state originated the stew—a pointless argument, since the Virginians clearly have the solid historical claim (see Chapter 4). Georgians would be better off looking over the Savannah River to their neighbors in South Carolina, for hash and the Georgia version of Brunswick Stew are likely distant cousins.
Available now on Amazon.com
What Reviewers are Saying
“Amazing as it seems, in all the welter of barbecue books extant, there is not a single one that comes close to recording this history. The effort has been long overdue, but here it is, finally, and it fills some huge gaps in the long and colorful story of this food tradition. I venture to guess that if the word gets around that a real social history of barbecue is on the market, it will stir up some genuine interest among the tens of thousands of Americans who love this subject. It’s truly the first comprehensive history of American barbecue.”
—John Egerton, author of Southern Food: At Home, on the Road, in History
"If you enjoy reading about barbecue history, then this book is a must-read for you. . . . To reveal much more will only deprive you of the joy of reading from those pages. This is a book you'll want to pick up soon." —Doug Mosley, National Barbecue News
"Moss shows [that] barbecue is a perfect example of the way Americans continue to reinvent themselves and their traditions, creating at least a nominal continuity even as the ways we live, and eat, change beyond recognition.
— Adam Kirsch, The Barnes and Noble Review
Excerpt from Chapter 5 of Barbecue: The History of an American Institution
The late 19th Century was the era of “barbecue men,” experienced cooks who became famous in their communities as masters of the pit and were in high demand to cook at public festivals and private functions. It was during this era that hash, the classic South Carolina specialty, came into prominence. A thick gravy made from pork and various pig organ meats, hash is generally served over white rice (though sometimes grits or bread are used instead), and it is almost exclusively considered a side dish to accompany barbecue, not a meal unto itself.
Hash appears to have originated sometime prior to the Civil War in the counties on either side of the Savannah River, which forms the border between Georgia and South Carolina. Estrella Jones, a former slave who was born on Powers Pond Place near Augusta, Georgia, recalled that when she was a child, the slaves would sometimes steal hogs from other plantations and “cook hash and rice and serve barbecue.” In 1861, at the opening of the Civil War, a barbecue was held to honor the Edgefield Riflemen, who hailed from the county in South Carolina just across the Savannah River from Augusta, as they prepared to leave for battle. The menu included “barbecued meats, and hash.”
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| The Brunswick Stew Pots at a Georgia Barbecue, 1890s |
On one level, hash is a way to use all of the pig slaughtered for a barbecue. In 19th century accounts, it is sometimes referred to as “giblet hash” or “liver and lights hash.” In most early versions, the cook would start with a hog’s head, the liver, and other organ meats and cook them with water in an iron stew pot over an open fire. Like the original Brunswick Stew recipes from Virginia, this combination was slowly simmered for many hours—sometimes a full day—until the ingredients had all broken down into a thick, consistent gravy-like liquid. Some cooks would add a few other ingredients—including red pepper, mustard, onion, and potatoes—but in general hash has always depended upon the slow-simmered meats for its rich, hearty flavor.
By the 1880s, hash was being served at barbecues as far north as Newberry, SC, and as far South as Macon in central Georgia—much farther south than hash is found today. In fact, there seems to be a good bit of confusion in central Georgia between hash and Brunswick Stew. Sheriff John W. Callaway for Washington, Georgia, always called his barbecue side dish “hash”, but reporters frequently labeled it “Brunswick Stew.” But it doesn’t seem merely a renaming of a single recipe, for, according to a 1907 newspaper account, a Christmas barbecue Callaway cooked for Wilkes County convicts included “several gallons of hash and a like quantity of Brunswick Stew.”
It is possible that what Georgians call Brunswick Stew today actually evolved out of the hash tradition as a variant of the original recipe. Visiting the Cotton States and International Exposition in Atlanta in 1895, Maude Andrews of Harper’s Weekly sampled Sheriff Wilkes’s famous stew and claimed that it, “for reasons not altogether clear even to its maker, bears the mysterious name of Brunswick.” Andrews got the recipe from one of the black cooks, and its formula is remarkably similar to that of classic South Carolina hash, with a few additions: “[Y]er jest takes the meat, de hog’s haid, an’ de libbers, and an’ all sorts er little nice parts, an’ yer chops it up wid corn and permattuses, an’ injuns an’ green peppers, an’ yer stews and stews tell hit all gits erlike, an’ yer kain’t tell what hit’s made uv.”
Hash remains an integral part of the Midlands South Carolina barbecue tradition today, where it is served over white rice at barbecue joints from Columbia down to Charleston. The hearty gravy is barely known beyond the borders of the Palmetto State, and visiting diners find it as puzzling as the region’s signature mustard-based barbecue sauce. In Georgia, Brunswick Stew reigns supreme as the standard barbecue side dish. A lot of hot air has been expended in the debate with Virginia over which state originated the stew—a pointless argument, since the Virginians clearly have the solid historical claim (see Chapter 4). Georgians would be better off looking over the Savannah River to their neighbors in South Carolina, for hash and the Georgia version of Brunswick Stew are likely distant cousins.
Available now on Amazon.com
