Even though I am a sworn admirer of the works of Mr. Tennessee Williams, I have, for many years now, a bit of a hard time calling any grown man “Big Daddy." But, as sure as the kudzu vine strangles the life out of our sweet Dixie, I gave in and gave up, accepting most of the generally fine smoked meats that Big Daddy’s Smokehouse Bar-B-Que, 220 S. Main St. in Noble, has to offer this usually velveteen suited dandy.
The scintillating smoke wafted through the layered neighborhood as thick cuts of beef, pork and chicken dripped their sweet juices down on that ashy wood, sizzling and spraying embers all to and fro and about in the good-sized smoker. It was a sweltering scent that reminded me of growing up amongst the meat-bearing beasts, hearing their forlorn cries as they were led to slaughterhouse and then, their silent remnants to the smokehouse.