By December 2024. Winter in Memphis, 66 years old, and the cold has settled into the house on Deadrick Avenue the way cold settles into old bones — persistently, without malice, just the physics of aging and December. Rosetta has the thermostat set at 74, our eternal compromise, and I cook warming things: stews and soups and slow-braised meats that fill the house with steam and flavor.
Rosetta beside me through the week, steady as ever, the woman who runs this household with the precision of a hospital ward and the heart of a mother who has loved fiercely for 41 years of marriage. The BBQ class at the community center continues — students of all ages learning fire and smoke, and me learning that teaching is its own kind of cooking: you prepare, you present, you hope something sticks.
I smoked a pork shoulder this week — the king, the classic, fourteen hours over hickory. The bark was dark and the smoke ring deep and the meat fell apart in my hands with the familiar magic of something that has been loved patiently. I served it on white bread with coleslaw and vinegar sauce, the way Uncle Clyde taught me, the way I teach everyone who stands next to my smoker, because the serving is the tradition and the tradition is the point.
The week ended on the porch with Rosetta, the evening settling over Orange Mound, the smoker cooling in the backyard. The fire was banked but not out — it's never out, just resting between cooks, holding the heat the way I hold the tradition: carefully, permanently, with the understanding that what Uncle Clyde gave me is not mine to keep but mine to pass, and the passing is the purpose.
After fourteen hours over hickory and a plate of pulled pork on white bread the way Uncle Clyde intended, the fire in the backyard was banked but still breathing — and Rosetta reminded me, as she always does, that a warm evening on the porch deserves something sweet at the end of it. We’ve been finishing cook days with S’mOreos for years now, holding the skewers over the last of the coals, letting the marshmallow catch and char just enough. It’s a small thing, but small things over a shared fire are how you remember what the whole day was for.
S’mOreos
Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 5 min | Total Time: 10 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 16 Oreo cookies
- 8 large marshmallows
- 4 oz milk chocolate bar, broken into pieces
- Skewers or roasting sticks
Instructions
- Prepare the cookies. Lay out 8 Oreo cookies on a plate or tray. Place a small piece of chocolate on top of each one — these will be the bases.
- Toast the marshmallows. Thread marshmallows onto skewers and hold them over low campfire coals or a gas flame, rotating slowly, until golden and soft all the way through — about 2–3 minutes. For a classic char, let the edge catch briefly, then blow it out.
- Sandwich them. Slide each toasted marshmallow off the skewer onto a chocolate-topped Oreo. Press a second Oreo firmly on top, holding for 5–10 seconds so the heat melts the chocolate slightly into the marshmallow.
- Serve immediately. Hand them out warm, straight off the fire. They don’t wait well — and neither does anyone standing around a cooling smoker on a December evening in Memphis.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 50g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 210mg