Pert "Mr. Charcoal" Whitehead
World Championships of BBQ Road Trip
Memphis, TN
The air was thick with charcoal and applewood smoke, and the damp skies could hardly hold back the crowds for the World Championships of BBQ in Memphis, TN. As a part of "Memphis in May," the contest brings competitors from all over the country and world in a competition for ribs, shoulder and whole pig, in addition to smaller competitions for sauce, t-shirts, and other items.
The journey by car was a bit of a whim, but on May 13th, John Grandefeld and I piled into my car for the 1100 mile journey through New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, Kentucky and Tennessee. Traveling through the night, we hit speeds of 120 mph and gas prices in excess of $2.20, more desperate to get to the hotel bed than to set land speed records. A short dinner stop in Morgantown, WV allowed us to watch the Lakers beat the Spurs with a 0.4 second desperation shot while seated to two very attractive women. My scream of horror as the shot went in, practically knocked one of the girls off her bar stool. And my lack of feeding the meter, earned me a $5 parking ticket from the Morgantown Parking Authority.
After a brief nap on Friday morning in Memphis, we headed to Tom Lee Park on the banks of the Mississippi for the festival, where we met Hal Neuberger, the owner of a parking lot (read: muddy field). Hal was one of those guys who was unafraid to express his opinion. Most of his sentences began with "Here's what you do..." much to our amusement.
As we walked around the hundreds of competitors booths, we were approached by a gentleman who was trying to round up competitors for the Wings eating contest. John is always up for a challenge, so I egged him on to enter, and at 4pm, he sat with 7 other competitors in front of an aluminum tin filled with cold chicken wings and eight minutes to eat as much as he could.
John started off strong, but his strategy of imbibing large quantities of water began to backfire as his pace slowed considerably, and he started get the look of nausea on his face. One of the competition staff rolled a 55-gallon drum alongside him fearing the worst, but he persevered, and finished an entire tin. He even held down all the food for several minutes before going to a port-a-potty to "pull the trigger."
Figuring that a Yankee had no chance against southerners, we went on our merry way, consuming pulled pork sandwiches and corn on the cob for the rest of the afternoon. For dinner, it was off to Rendevous for some of the best dry ribs in Memphis on Hal Neuberger's suggestion.
Later that evening while wandering around a Memphis Gentlemen's Club, we were approached by a guy who recognized us from earlier in the day. He ecstatically explained that John had won 3rd Place in the Wing's Eating Contest, but hadn't been around to collect the trophy. Nevertheless, we were both amused that his efforts hadn't been for naught.
We wandered around the fairgrounds for several hours the next day, and rounded the corner to find one of the booths pulling out a whole roasted pig. The chef peeled back the thin skin and began serving on-lookers, handing John a huge piece of bacon. It was, "the best bacon I've ever had," he claimed. Not wanting to stick around for the awards, we went back to retrieve the car, and struck up another conversation with Hal Neuberger.
As it turns out, Hal has a son, Marty, who works in New York with my friend, Chad Cooper. Hal also likes to dispense advice, and had no shortage of places to send us to for more great Memphis BBQ. As he leaned over the car, he stuck his head so far in the window, that he was virutally sitting with us. He gave us a list of BBQ joints to visit, whereupon John said, "Well, I guess we can split a sandwich at each place, Allen."
"No. You're not gonna do that," Hal replied stonefaced.
We looked at each other and decided that now was not the time to discuss BBQ eating habits, so we drove off with list in hand to consume more BBQ. After a few sandwiches, John decided that we should find "Mr. Charcoal," so with only an address to guide us, we ended up at a warehouse in a less-than-desirable section of town. John made an introduction, and soon, we were getting a tour of his warehouse, filled with every type of charcoal imaginable.
Pert "Like the Shampoo" Whitehead started his charcoal business in the 70s, and now supplies most of the BBQ shops in town. With his vice president fast asleep in a chair, Pert spent several minutes just chatting with us, as Victor, the little boy from next door played with my camera to his delight. As we were about to pay for the charcoal, Pert said, "Well, if you came all the way down from New York, you just take those bags for free." He was just about the nicest guy you could've met.
We headed downtown to look for some shirts to go out with that night, but as we passed by the AAA Ballpark, a scalper approached us with $5 tickets. Figuring that we weren't in Memphis very often, we headed into the park and downed a beer as we caught a couple innings with the Memphis Red Birds. I even tried my arm out at the pitching machine only to find that I had zero control of a baseball that topped out at 54 mph.
By the time dinner rolled around, BBQ was the last thing on our mind, so we headed to PF Chang's to toast a most enjoyable road trip.
