I'm not going to risk suggesting where Southern barbecue was invented, because there is so much variation and cross-fertilisation: Kansas barbecue was developed by a man from Tennessee, for example. But it's safe to say that it differs from the Kiwi barbie in that the meat is cooked long and slow, and not from the radiant heat from charcoal but with the hot smoke from a wood (classically hickory) fire. Five hours cooking is standard, overnight not uncommon.
It was superfluous to ask the Professor whether she wanted to join me at Hog Heaven. She's not a big meat-eater and her lifelong fondness for pigs means the very name makes her shudder. But I found willing companions in my son and his wife.
The restaurant had just released an online deal and the waiting staff were run off their feet but the service was excellent and the food came fast. Better still, manager Javier Yebenes, a personable Spaniard, was an exemplary host: though running the bar single-handed, he found time to stop by tables, explaining dishes and making recommendations.
The menu here has familiar classics chicken wings, gumbo, ribs, the ubiquitous salt-and-pepper squid and offerings from the Louisiana Cajun style that should tickle the most jaded palate.
We started with "crawn" (crab and prawn) patties, which came with a dipping sauce of horseradish enlivened with lime and coriander and jalapeno peppers stuffed with cream cheese and chives before being crumbed and deep fried, which had a decent but not overpowering bite to them.
The seafood gumbo was a cracker, singing with spice but delivering waves of rich prawn and fish tastes as well. The juicy meat fell from the pork ribs and the smoked beef brisket had not a trace of the greasy fat that can ruin that cut of meat.
Sweet potato fries were limp and soggy, but the other accompaniments were great: creamy coleslaw, crisp green beans.
There's a lot more to enjoy here on a return visit their take on beef cheek, pulled pork and roasted chicken for starters (though regrettably, neither pork nor chicken is free-farmed) and the Delta specialty, picayune oyster cake, which I foolishly forgot to order.
I would counsel against an appalling cheesecake. It's the only thing on the menu that they buy in and it was a nasty thing, slimy as junket, but it's great to see this southern comfort come to town.
Verdict: First-rate southern barbecue
Starters $6.50-$15; Mains $12-$29.50; Pizzas $12-$16; Desserts $7.50
