About 110,000 people descended on
Lexington
last October for the 18th annual barbecue festival
Where Good
Barbecue Is More than a Meal
There
are two major demarcation points defining food in this part of the
country. The first, which usually falls along North-South lines, is at
which point on the map that sweet tea is no longer offered in
restaurants.
The second runs East-West directly through our state and defines the
type of barbecue most people prefer — Lexington-style barbecue vs.
Eastern North Carolina-style barbecue. The Great Barbecue Debate has
been the subject of many discussions and probably more than a few
fistfights through the years.
Of course to folks in Davidson County’s it’s a no-brainer. More
than a dozen restaurants specializing in the tomato-based pork
barbecue dot the Lexington phone book, and several are in their third
generation of family ownership.
Perhaps the best known is Lexington Barbecue, perched on a hill
overlooking Business Interstate 85. Wayne Monk came to this hill in
1962 and he’s been there ever since.
Monk is part of a group of restaurant owners who began their careers
working for Warner Stamey. Stamey, in turn, learned his trade from Sid
Weaver and Jess Swicegood, who sold barbecue in tents on the downtown
square during the 1920s.
Monk moved to Lexington in the ninth grade and first put on an apron
to go to work in a barbecue restaurant on his 16th birthday.
He left the restaurant business briefly to work in a mill, but he
found that he didn’t like being confined.
“I was raised outside and I liked the outdoors,” Monk says.
Perhaps that’s why there are large windows all along the front of
his restaurant.
He and a partner took over what was Knob Hill Drive-In 40 years ago,
and his partner — whose last name was Honeycutt — renamed the
restaurant the “Honey Monk.”
Monk bought out his partner soon after, and the first thing he did was
change the name.
“I thought that sounded silly,” Monk says. “I am conservative,
and I wanted something I could brag on. Nobody was using the name
‘Lexington Barbecue,’ so I just capitalized on that.”
His restaurant had six booths, eight stools and curb service. His
first year, he made a small profit and he was happy with it. Over the
years, Lexington Barbecue has expanded five times and now seats 115.
It does a booming curb and carryout service, and its trademark — as
is the case at most any barbecue restaurant around town — is
extraordinarily fast service.
Just how important is barbecue here? Enough so that a widely
successful festival is held each October in its honor. Depending on
the weather, crowds range from 110,000 to 130,000. This past October,
with afternoon temperatures in the 30s, about 110,000 people attended
the 18th annual event.
This set a “cold weather record,” says Joe Sink, the recently
retired publisher of The Dispatch, who first had the idea for the
festival. He’s watched its popularity and reputation grow. It was
named a Top 20 event for the month of October 2001 by the Southeast
Tourism Society, as well as on of the Top 10 food festivals in the
country by Travel & Leisure magazine.
“It is a positive thing for the community,” says Stephanie
Saintsing, who produces the festival along with her mother, Kay.
“Joe and Kay had a genuine interest in Lexington and they wanted to
make it a better place to live.”
It’s also a financial boon. On festival day, usually the last
Saturday in October, some 35,000 pounds of barbecue are sold, both by
the participating restaurants and other barbecue restaurants in the
area. It’s estimated that the average visitor spends anywhere from
$20 to $50 during their stay.
“The community has stood by this event and wanted to see it
happen,” Saintsing says. “Over the years, it has continued to grow
in quality and attendance.”
So has the popularity of barbecue in town the remaining 364 days of
the year. Today, Monk’s staff still cooks barbecue exactly the way
that Warner Stamey did — in pits over hickory and oak coals.
Monk’s three children and six grandchildren work at the restaurant,
and he makes it clear that things will forever continue just as they
are supposed to — barbecue done right. The sweet tea isn’t bad,
either.
Despite his intentions, the original name still sticks for locals,
sans the “Honey.” Ask locals town about Lexington Barbecue — the
restaurant — and you’ll likely get this response: “Oh, you mean
The Monk.” -- Susan Shinn Poe
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