Mr.Barbecue

On my way down to the flatlands on Friday, I found myself beyond my usual stop for barbecue in Winston-Salem. Fortunately, the Peters Creek Parkway exit was just ahead and I had not been to Mr. Barbecue and Miss Fried Chicken for many years. The owner even back them was elderly and I feared for the worse. Boy, was I wrong!


The place was booming. Parking was at a premium. And the woodpile was still beside the pit.


The place is an old-style joint in which you walk in and they take your order at a central counter. The order-takers are knowledgeable, courteous, and adult. They speak in whole sentences, complete with inflections without any of that "welcometomcdonaldswouldyouliketotryournewostrichburgertoday" monotone I've-got-to-say-this-and-I'll-do-it-as-quickly-as-I-can-even-if-you-cannot-possibly-understand-it greeting. Nope. It was a face-to-face you-are-a-real-person dialog in which your order is efficiently taken with a "Who's next?", payment is made, your order checked for accuracy upon delivery and a "Thank you for your business!" given. And, upon leaving, everyone gets a second "Thank you for coming in today." What a real pleasure!

Oh! Did I mention the barbecue is just as good as ever?