Some Things Never Change

Via Cousin John

 

Carolina-Virginia Farmer

VERBATIM

I had dinner in my favorite hometown restaurant recently, Parker’s Barbecue in Wilson, N.C., Now there are Parkers around in various North Carolina towns, but they are all a little different and I don’t know much about them. When I say my “favorite,” I am talking about the Wilson version.

A couple came in, paused to read the “Seat yourself” sign by the door, then found the table next to mine in the middle of the restaurant. One of the waiters, a teenage boy in a white apron and white paper cap, came over and asked if they needed to see a menu. Most people don’t, of course, because they know everything that is on it. The man laughed and said, “Yes, we do. It has been a long time since we’ve been here.”

The waiter answered, “Don’t worry. It hasn’t changed.”

I thought, you know, that’s is a great thing to hear. You  can’t say that about many things these days, but when it comes to Parker’s Barbecue it’s true. Parker’s is older than I am but it is still good. The same thing I ate at Parkers on visits to the tobacco market when I was six years old is the same thing they serve now, made and served the same way  and with the same flavor.

The tradition goes from the Carolina-style vinegar-based  barbecue and chicken, to the décor and furniture. The same knotty pine that has always adorned the walls is still here. There are some framed photos blown up to giant size on the wall, of round 1940s Fords and Plymouths parked in the driveways, like giant lima beans lined up in front of the same building façade you just strode up the walkway  into. Other photos center around the tobacco market that was once so influential in Wilson. For years - until the federal quota buyout in 2004 - Wilson was known as the World’s Greatest Tobacco Market. In its heyday great stars would perform in the town during the annual tobacco festival. Bing Crosby once performed in the town, and home-grown comedians like Mustard and Gravy got their start at the festival and then made it big in Hollywood, too.

All that is gone, now, but we still have Parkers.

In my estimation, it isn’t one particular food that makes Parkers so good. It is the way all the foods and flavors go together. Not that the other selections aren’t good, but almost everybody gets a chicken and barbecue combination with boiled potatoes, Brunswick stew, slaw and corn sticks. Every time you get it, it is the same – and it’s always good. The sweet tea, with just the right amount and consistency of ice, goes down smooth and sweet  as ice cream. The service is great. The boys in white aprons, usually 16 to 25 year old or so, whisk around the tables like electrons. By the time you settle in good, the door to the kitchen flies open and here come your plates on big, pewter colored  trays. There is never much waiting at Parkers.

The thought of ice cream reminds me of another association with Parkers. Once some tobacco industry folks held a meeting at Parkers and ate family style in one of the back rooms. But the guy throwing the shindig wanted  to spruce it up a bit, and make the dinner he was sponsoring just a little bit better than the last meeting. He asked the waiter to bring some deserts. The waiter said, “deserts?” like he had never heard the word before. Everybody laughed.

It’s not that desserts aren’t a good thing. But everybody knows Parkers doesn’t offer deserts. There a few candy bars at the counter, but no official desserts, not even banana pudding or ice cream. After all, dessert is just not needed. Parkers is perfect just the way it is.