I have wanted to eat at this place for years. Was reviewing a route for a planned trip to Santee State Park (see my SC State Parks thread elsewhere) and decided to do a little recon, since Hemingway is (ahem) ontheway. Scott's has been on the BBQ map for decades, attracting national news media and celebrity chefs like the late great Anthony Bourdain. Founded by Ella and the recently-late Roosevelt "Rosie" Scott in the early 1970's, this is a classic dive hole-in-the-wall barbecue joint. Their son Rodney Scott has a restaurant in Charleston and won a James Beard award a few years back. Not sure if he is still involved in the Hemingway operation.
I left Conway on 378 westbound, and turned south onto 51/41 toward Johnsonville, which almost merges with its neighbor to the south, including a "twin cities" church in between. But Johnsonville is in Florence County, with a decent tax base. Hemingway is in Williamsburg County, one of the poorest in the state. This is painfully obvious as soon as you leave 41, turn onto Broad Street/261 toward Scott's, and cross the railroad tracks/city limits. This road was paved with asphalt at some point, but looks as if it has been traversed primarily by tanks and other heavy tracked vehicles in the decades since. At a couple points there are large steel plates covering unrepaired holes in the road. Elsewhere the roadbed is composed primarily of pulverized asphalt, large ruts, mud, potholes, and piles of what would be called pea gravel if it wasn't so jagged. Perhaps tongue-in-cheek, the county refers to this two-lane goat path as "Hemingway Highway." Fortunately, it is only about a mile-and-a-half to Scott's.
The Mecca of whole-hog vinegar-pepper barbecue is situated in an ancient shack mere feet from the "highway." The pits are next door under an old quonset hut. Junk lies about everywhere, along with piles of cut timber. Stray cats roam. Parking, especially for a bike, is extremely squirrelly and gravel-fraught, as the buildings are about two feet lower than the road. Signs at the establishment next door jealously guard their parking with towing threats.
Scott's does not compromise. One hand-scrawled sign pokes fun at those wanting credit; another advises of a dress code that doesn't tolerate drooping pants. I didn't see the one that warns not to come early, but I arrived in the late afternoon. With high-waisted tight-belted pants.
There are a couple picnic tables outside under a metal carport-type structure, and a few more across the "highway." There is no inside dining, no table service. Bottled sodas come out of a cooler off to the side. I saw Bourdain drinking longneck Buds in a video with Rodney, but I didn't see any beer during my visit. (I don't booze and ride anymore, anyway, but you can bet there's gonna be a pork-and-beer pairing back at my house!) You order at one side of a window, pay cash-only and pick up at the other side. You can get the BBQ pork on a sandwich (white bread only), a plate with beans and slaw (while they last), or by the pound, all in styrofoam boxes. Chicken is available until they run out. They are only open Wednesday-Saturday, from opening (9:30 AM) until they close or run out.
They don't compromise on their cooking either. Local hardwood trees are cut, split on-site, and fed into a "burn barrel." a huge metal drum pierced with old truck axles. As the hardwood embers fall into the bottom, they are scooped out with shovels and carried inside to be spread under the cinder-block pits, shoulders and hams only. As the meat slowly smokes and the skin blisters (bbq gourmets prize the skin), a dry rub is sprinkled on, the secret sauce is -literally - mopped onto the split carcasses, and tongs are used to slightly break up the meat and let the sauce seep in. After cooking, the bones are removed and the skin set aside, but the meat is NOT chopped. It is served with more sauce on the side, but large quantities of the secret sauce are pricey. They will cook a whole or half hog for you, and I believe you can also supply the hog yourself.
More notes are sure to follow after I sleep and dream of pigs and fire....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
I left Conway on 378 westbound, and turned south onto 51/41 toward Johnsonville, which almost merges with its neighbor to the south, including a "twin cities" church in between. But Johnsonville is in Florence County, with a decent tax base. Hemingway is in Williamsburg County, one of the poorest in the state. This is painfully obvious as soon as you leave 41, turn onto Broad Street/261 toward Scott's, and cross the railroad tracks/city limits. This road was paved with asphalt at some point, but looks as if it has been traversed primarily by tanks and other heavy tracked vehicles in the decades since. At a couple points there are large steel plates covering unrepaired holes in the road. Elsewhere the roadbed is composed primarily of pulverized asphalt, large ruts, mud, potholes, and piles of what would be called pea gravel if it wasn't so jagged. Perhaps tongue-in-cheek, the county refers to this two-lane goat path as "Hemingway Highway." Fortunately, it is only about a mile-and-a-half to Scott's.
The Mecca of whole-hog vinegar-pepper barbecue is situated in an ancient shack mere feet from the "highway." The pits are next door under an old quonset hut. Junk lies about everywhere, along with piles of cut timber. Stray cats roam. Parking, especially for a bike, is extremely squirrelly and gravel-fraught, as the buildings are about two feet lower than the road. Signs at the establishment next door jealously guard their parking with towing threats.
Scott's does not compromise. One hand-scrawled sign pokes fun at those wanting credit; another advises of a dress code that doesn't tolerate drooping pants. I didn't see the one that warns not to come early, but I arrived in the late afternoon. With high-waisted tight-belted pants.
There are a couple picnic tables outside under a metal carport-type structure, and a few more across the "highway." There is no inside dining, no table service. Bottled sodas come out of a cooler off to the side. I saw Bourdain drinking longneck Buds in a video with Rodney, but I didn't see any beer during my visit. (I don't booze and ride anymore, anyway, but you can bet there's gonna be a pork-and-beer pairing back at my house!) You order at one side of a window, pay cash-only and pick up at the other side. You can get the BBQ pork on a sandwich (white bread only), a plate with beans and slaw (while they last), or by the pound, all in styrofoam boxes. Chicken is available until they run out. They are only open Wednesday-Saturday, from opening (9:30 AM) until they close or run out.
They don't compromise on their cooking either. Local hardwood trees are cut, split on-site, and fed into a "burn barrel." a huge metal drum pierced with old truck axles. As the hardwood embers fall into the bottom, they are scooped out with shovels and carried inside to be spread under the cinder-block pits, shoulders and hams only. As the meat slowly smokes and the skin blisters (bbq gourmets prize the skin), a dry rub is sprinkled on, the secret sauce is -literally - mopped onto the split carcasses, and tongs are used to slightly break up the meat and let the sauce seep in. After cooking, the bones are removed and the skin set aside, but the meat is NOT chopped. It is served with more sauce on the side, but large quantities of the secret sauce are pricey. They will cook a whole or half hog for you, and I believe you can also supply the hog yourself.
More notes are sure to follow after I sleep and dream of pigs and fire....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
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