{"id":5686,"date":"2021-09-30T09:09:42","date_gmt":"2021-09-30T09:09:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/9thstreetjournal.org\/?p=5686"},"modified":"2023-03-27T15:59:14","modified_gmt":"2023-03-27T15:59:14","slug":"the-search-for-durhams-best-side-of-mac-and-cheese","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/9thstreetjournal.org\/2021\/09\/30\/the-search-for-durhams-best-side-of-mac-and-cheese\/","title":{"rendered":"The search for Durham’s best side of mac and cheese"},"content":{"rendered":"
At a barbecue restaurant, meat is the main event. But no heaping serving of Durham barbecue — whether pulled, chopped, wet, or dry — can stand alone. It needs sides, be they slaw, beans or something more adventurous. For me, the most important side is mac and cheese, and Durham chefs keep it simple.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Regardless of the restaurant, the foundation is the same: a classic macaroni elbow\u2014farfalle or ditalini would be sacrilegious\u2014and always well-cooked. Al dente is a foreign concept to a pitmaster. When it comes to cheese, cheddar is a safe bet and powder is a possibility, but there shouldn\u2019t be anything along the lines of an aged parmigiano-reggiano. A few daring chefs will sprinkle in some black pepper, but there\u2019s no place for the likes of lobster or truffle oil, which may be tastefully (or pretentiously) added at a restaurant where plates aren\u2019t separated into quadrants.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n To figure out who does it best, I embarked on a mac and cheese tour of Durham. In two weeks, I visited five barbecue restaurants, reporter’s notebook in hand, and sampled\u2014or, more accurately, indulged in\u2014each version of the treasured side. Here\u2019s what I found.<\/span><\/p>\n Backyard BBQ Pit: A Guilty Pleasure<\/b><\/p>\n The lunchtime crowd has formed a line to the door at the Backyard BBQ Pit when I arrive. I spend my wait digesting the sprawling chalkboard menu, admiring the graffiti-covered walls, and gawking at the overflowing cafeteria style buffet.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhat can I getcha, baby doll?\u201d asks my server once I reach the front of the line. The steam rising from the buffet table fogs its plexiglass barrier, so she walks me through the sides in a friendly southern drawl. She tells me that I shouldn\u2019t miss out on the candied yams, which she prepares from scratch every morning. There isn\u2019t enough room in one black styrofoam takeout container for all of her recommendations, so I find myself at the checkout counter with two combo platters and four different sides (candied yams included).<\/span><\/p>\n I open the container to find a heaping side of mac and cheese, spilling out of its quadrant and shining with the oily glow of melted cheddar. I reach for my plastic fork, but soon find that this mac and cheese demands a spoon as I can\u2019t afford to have any of the cheesy sauce slip through the tines.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The star of this dish is the generously apportioned cheddar cheese that envelops the elbows. It mixes with collard greens and sweet potato in the happiest of accidents as the sides begin to blend together, creating new flavor combinations. After polishing off the last spoonful, I notice a small pool of oil where the mac and cheese once rested. Usually this would concern me, but I remind myself that Backyard BBQ\u2019s mac and cheese is not meant to be refined (or healthy); It\u2019s comfort food, and if an ungodly amount of cheddar cheese is required to make it right, so be it.<\/span><\/p>\n The Pit: Home Cooked Charm<\/b><\/p>\n Once seated at a high-top table with my feet dangling above the floor, my server brings over a complimentary basket brimming with biscuits and hushpuppies and invites me to take all the time I need with the laminated menu. Her friendliness is a welcome counterpoint to the ominous collection of cleavers that adorn the red wall to my right.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n