All savant's of the pit will hold fast to their belief of what true barbecue is. It requires the…read moresmoke of a certain wood or must be a certain cut. And the greatest debate of them all; what sauce (if any) is the proper one. But there is one element all can agree on; aroma. If you pull up, close enough for the breeze to carry the smoke across your nostrils, you know if it's true barbecue. And on a cold night, having just spent 9 hours driving to Virginia, I had such an experience.
A family member called as we got closer to arrival and mentioned Fizzle's. I don't remember his exact words, but they involved a trailer, fire pit, and good sides. It was like going on a blind date with a optimist; I was already in love and had yet to lay eyes on the place. Down this two lane road we traveled, the sun having already set, and I scanned the scenery in anticipation. In what could only be described as some form of bbq voodoo, it magically appeared around a corner. This beacon of light, contrasted against the starless sky, required no flashy signage or voluminous music. It was the sign, and the song, I was looking for. Our windows up, due to the ever dropping temperature, the aroma found its way to me. The savoriness of hickory, with notes of apple wood and cooking pork fat, was a siren and I the surrendering sailer.
My appetite spoke for me that night, asking about the larger pork sandwich option, but thankful Reneta advised me that would be an entire pound (whereas the sandwich is still half a pound). I almost went for it, but I tell you wisdom must have intervened in that moment for I was dragging my fork across the finish line as I took the last bite of bean and mac n cheese. The sauce has just a touch of sweetness (likely a pinch of brown sugar), but not too overt. As a child I had a crush on Mrs. Frizzle. Corky, intelligent, encouraging, and she had a magic school bus. But now as a grown up, my new crush is Fizzle. The meat, the sides, the sauce, the seemingly secret locations they may pop up next. If you're in the area, order a plate for me. And I beg of you, tell me the moment they get desserts.
