In late February, the state of Alabama's tourism department made a bold declaration: 2015, it said, will be the Year of Alabama Barbecue. The campaign pushing Alabama's barbecue legacy might have sounded like a bit of a stretch: Even a barbecue neophyte might be able to point to Memphis or Texas Hill Country as iconic homes to smoked meat, but Alabama? Not so much.

 

Barbecue is intensely personal and democratic. Change up the meat, the cooking style, or the sauce, and you've got your own style of barbecue. But barbecue is also a paradox, taking on identities from region to region. In Texas, barbecue means brisket. In the Carolinas, it's whole hog. Memphis has wet and dry pork ribs, and Kansas City offers a little bit of everything (plus burnt ends). In these regions, the big four, the word barbecue means something at once specific and variable.

 

In Alabama, barbecue means something, too. Trouble is, not many people outside the state - even barbecue obsessives - know what that is. "We really don't have an identity," says restaurateur Nick Pihakis, the younger half of the father-son duo behind Alabama-based mini-chain Jim 'N Nick's. The Year of Alabama Barbecue hopes to change that by exploring the roots and regional quirks of barbecue in the state. Its multi-pronged campaign includes a barbecue trail smartphone app, academic research into barbecue's political history, and a Hall of Fame for the restaurants that have endured the test of time. The goal isn't just to market Alabama barbecue to outsiders (though of course it is primarily that). In the end, some hope the campaign will deepen the very meaning of barbecue in Alabama.