Southern Appreciation

There are some wry moments only a Southerner can truly appreciate. Take, for instance, my recent job interview at a small winery and vineyard a little north of Salem, Oregon.

Following an interstate, a traffic-light-ridden highway, country roads, and a very bumpy gravel road, I made my way to Amity Vineyards. I spoke with the owner for a while about my experience and wine sales approach. She mentioned in passing that one of the winery/tasting room employees was from Georgia.

When we went back inside, I told said employee, Anna, that I grew up in Georgia too. She asked, where? I responded, Marietta. She asked, which high school? I said Walton. She said, me too! I asked which neighborhood she lived in? Turns out we lived off the same traffic-light-ridden highway in Marietta, Georgia. Of course, she graduated over a decade after I did and probably never had the chance to see country, gravel roads in Marietta the way I had. These little moments in life are exquisite, but that's not the moment I'm referring to when I speak of Southerners appreciating life's wry sense of humor.

Take a close look at the menu. 

No, I asked another employee, Andrea, if there were any especially good spots in Amity for some lunch. She suggested Uncle Jack's BBQ. I usually avoid BBQ out west, but I was going to take her up on this one. From the outside, it was exactly what I was looking for.

The inside was too. A few tables were populated with locals as I made my way to the counter to inspect the menu. As I was gazing over the fare, I was thrilled to bits to see the prices. We're not in Portland anymore, Dorthy! The waitress asked if I wanted it to go, and I said no, and she said, oh well have a seat and I'll bring you some water and a menu. Such hospitality.

So I sat and observed the other side of the menu. I'll be dammed. Sweet tea in Oregon. I think this was the first time that I've actually seen it listed. Of course it's not listed in the South. That's a given. There is nothing better to wash down a pulled pork sandwich than some sweet tea. As my eyes scanned further down I was overjoyed to see the beer and wine selection. There were the usual suspects, yes. Bud, Coors, etc. But a Deschutes Seasonal? And bless my stars, a wine list!?! At BBQ?! I'm throwing down the gauntlet to my southern people. If you can find a BBQ joint (where you can get a sandwich and SALAD—cole slaw will count for $5.95) and they also offer a Pinot Noir and Gewürztraminer by the glass, I will send you one of my Domaine Serene Evenstad Reserve Pinot Noir from 2008. Seriously.

The BBQ was good. Unsurprisingly, the salad was a bagged version of iceberg, dehydrated carrots and purple cabbage, but I did get an option of balsamic vinegar dressing. While the sauce lacked a vinegar component that I so enjoy in a delectable BBQ sandwich, I was easily able to compensate by pouring my salad dressing directly on top. Gourmet. I mean gour—met.

Just as I was shaking my head in disbelief Anna from the winery came in to pick up some sandwiches to take back to the tasting room. Just two gals from Marietta, Georgia, eating some BBQ and talking wine in Amity, Oregon. America, to thee I sing!

The menu at Uncle Jack's. See previous photo for drink list