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Like many native Atlantans, my first taste of pork barbeque was at Old Hickory House, which used to have 14 locations but now only has one, in Tucker.
Since then, I’ve sampled pulled pork everywhere from large, slick chains to broken down shacks along the road to locals with large smokers on street corners – as well as at BBQ festivals and backyard all-night roasts followed by pig-pickin.
Last year, son Thomas bought a smoker the size of a small fridge and developed his own Carolina-style recipe that is the best I’ve ever had. Problem now: I’m spoiled.