The regional table / North Carolina
Eastern North Carolina Chopped Pork with Vinegar Sauce
The oldest sauce in American barbecue is vinegar, salt and pepper, and the reason it lasted is that it is the only thing that makes a whole hog taste like one dish instead of six.
North Carolina printed this sauce long before it argued about it. The Raleigh Cook Book of 1907 gives the whole of eastern barbecue in two lines under the heading "To Barbecue Pork": barbecue, it says, "may be prepared in the same way as fresh pork ham by adding one-half teacup of vinegar to the gravy and basting frequently while baking." The Henderson Cook Book of 1914, from the same side of the state, prints a barbecue sauce of stock, two tablespoons of vinegar, browned flour, a teaspoon of mustard, salt, "small amount cayenne and black pepper," and tells you to let the cooked meat simmer in it or baste with it. Neither book contains a tomato, a ketchup bottle or a drop of anything sweet in its barbecue. That absence is the eastern style stated in print, a generation before anyone needed to call it eastern.
The method is older than the books and it was not the cookbook committees' work. Wesley Jones, interviewed at 97 near Union, South Carolina, by the Federal Writers' Project in 1937, had been the pit hand for the barbecues at the Sardis store before the Civil War, and he described the night shift exactly: "Night befo' dem barbecues, I used to stay up all night a-cooking and basting de meats wid barbecue sass." The sass was "vinegar, black and red pepper, salt, butter, a little sage, coriander, basil, onion, and garlic," and some folks dropped a little sugar in it. On a long pronged stick he wrapped a rag for a swab and worked the meat all night, "till it drip into de fire," because the drippings turned the smoke into what he called seasoned fumes. On his pit stakes he had "whole goats, whole hogs, sheep and de side of a cow," and the white lawyers who came out to make speeches liked to stand and watch him do it. That is who built this food: enslaved men and, after 1865, Black pitmasters working for wages or for themselves, doing the all-night labour that the people eating it did not do. The Encyclopedia of North Carolina's barbecue entry, still the state's standard reference, runs from the Taino word through William Byrd's hogs to the pig pickin' without using the words slave, African or Black once. It is worth saying plainly because the record does not say it for you.
Why this version works
Skin is an ingredient. The Encyclopedia of North Carolina notes that in some areas bits of skin are considered integral to the finished product, and they are. Crisped skin chopped through the meat gives the crunch that keeps a plate of soft pork from going monotonous. Leave it out and you will reach for more sauce to compensate.
Two cuts stand in for the hog. Whole hog is not a cut, it is a blend — shoulder, ham, loin and belly chopped together so that fat, lean and skin end up in every forkful. A shoulder alone is one note. Cooking a bone-in shoulder alongside a slab of skin-on belly and chopping them together is the closest a home cook gets to that blend, and it is the single change that makes this taste like eastern barbecue rather than like pulled pork.
Vinegar cuts what fat leaves behind. Pork cooked eight hours coats the mouth. Cider vinegar at full strength, salted and peppered, strips that coating between bites, which is why the eastern sauce is thin enough to pour and sharp enough to make you flinch from a spoon. Thickened or sweetened, it stops doing the job it exists for.
The sauce goes on the meat, not on the plate. Chopped pork is dressed hot, on the board, and then left ten minutes. The meat drinks the sauce and comes back seasoned through. Sauce poured over a finished mound sits on top, and the first two bites are sour and the rest are bland.