BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwiches with Creamy Coleslaw were not on my radar until 5 a.m. on a Tuesday in Memphis. I had flown into MEM the night before and could not sleep, jet lagged the wrong direction. So I walked.
The smoke was already going when I turned the corner onto South Main. A man named Royce was hunched over a barrel smoker on wheels, hickory chunks glowing in the firebox, talking to nobody. The cart said Lucille’s in chalk above a price list. Sandwich, six bucks. The price had been crossed out and rewritten three times.
He saw me hovering and waved me over. He had been there since 4. He said if I wanted to understand barbecue I should stop standing at the rope and come look at the meat.
Meeting Royce at the South Main Cart in Memphis
Royce ran his cart in front of a low brick building in the South Main Arts District, a block from the train tracks. He worked alone. He had a Boston butt that had already been on for six hours, fat cap up, bark the color of espresso, and he was getting ready to wrap it.
I watched him for the next 90 minutes. He let me spritz the mop. He showed me how he knew, by feel and not by thermometer, when the meat would shred easy. The bone, he said, will tell you. It just slides out clean.
The sandwich he handed me at sunrise was on a soft potato bun, the pork still warm and shaggy, a heaping spoon of cold slaw on top, the whole thing leaking vinegar onto wax paper. I ate it standing on the curb. I went back the next two mornings.
What Memphis Actually Means by Pulled Pork
The thing most people get wrong about Southern pulled pork is that they think ‘BBQ sauce’ means the thick ketchup and molasses gloop that comes in a bottle at the supermarket. Royce laughed when I asked about it. Memphis sauce is thinner. Carolina sauce, where this whole style has its deepest roots, is barely more than vinegar and pepper.
Pork became the dominant Southern barbecue meat because hogs were cheaper to raise than cattle, and the slow-smoking technique itself dates back to 16th-century Spanish colonists who adopted it from the Taíno people in the Caribbean. So when you eat one of these sandwiches you are eating five hundred years of borrowed ideas piled onto a bun.
The slaw on top thing. That is not a gimmick or a recent invention. In Memphis and across the Carolinas, the cold mayo slaw sitting on the meat is just how the sandwich comes, the cool cream cutting the smoke and the fat.
Bringing It Back to My LA Kitchen
I got home and ordered an 8 pound bone-in Boston butt from the butcher counter at McCall’s in Los Feliz. They cut it to order and I asked them to leave the fat cap on. This is non-negotiable. Lean cuts like pork loin or tenderloin will not work here. The fat and connective tissue need hours to render down or you end up with dry shreds that taste like cafeteria meat.
I do not own a real smoker. I do the whole thing on a Weber kettle I have had since I lived in Atwater Village, indirect heat, charcoal banked to one side, hickory chunks I pick up at the hardware store on Glendale Boulevard. It works fine. Plenty of Memphis pitmasters started on less than that.
First time I tried it at home I rushed. Wrapped at 150 F because I was hungry and impatient. The bark never set, the sandwich was greasy, and the pork tasted half steamed. Now I leave it alone until the internal hits 165 and the outside looks like dark, dry leather.
What I Used
- An 8 lb bone-in pork shoulder, well marbled, fat cap left on
- Yellow mustard, just enough to slick the surface so the rub sticks
- Kosher salt and freshly cracked black pepper, generous on both
- Smoked paprika and packed dark brown sugar, the backbone of the rub
- Garlic powder, onion powder, a teaspoon of cayenne
- Apple cider vinegar, hot sauce, and water for the mop
- A small amount of ketchup and red pepper flakes for the thin Memphis finishing sauce
- Hickory wood chunks, never mesquite
- Shredded green cabbage and carrot for the slaw
- Full fat mayonnaise, white vinegar, sugar, Dijon, and celery seed for the dressing
- Soft potato buns, lightly toasted on the cooling smoker
Where Home Cooks Trip Up on BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwiches with Creamy Coleslaw
Mesquite is wrong for this. I know it is what every supermarket BBQ rack stocks. Save mesquite for short hot cooks like a hangar steak. For a 10-hour smoke it turns bitter and the meat tastes like an ashtray by the end. Hickory is the Memphis answer. Oak is gentler if you are nervous, apple if you like a sweeter smoke.
Do not drown the meat in sauce. The pork should glisten, not swim. Royce called heavy saucing ‘wet pork sin’ and pretended to spit on the ground when he said it. The smoke and the meat are the point. Sauce is a light dressing, not a coat of paint.
Make the slaw at least an hour ahead so the cabbage softens slightly and the flavors come together. Past 24 hours it weeps and turns sad in the bowl.
And rest the pork. Forty-five minutes wrapped on a sheet pan, no peeking. If you cut into it the second it comes off the smoker the juices that were redistributing all run out onto the board and the shred goes dry. I almost skipped this step once. I am glad I did not.
A Few Twists I Have Tried
No smoker, no problem. I have done the whole shoulder covered in a 275 F oven for 6 hours with a teaspoon of liquid smoke whisked into the finishing sauce at the end. It is not the same. Honestly closer than I expected.
I have swapped the potato bun for brioche. Brioche turns soggy fast under the slaw. Potato holds. I always go potato now, except when the market is out, which happens more than you would think.
Once I added a chipotle in adobo to the mop. I thought about doing it again. Actually no, I will. Royce would side-eye me but he is not in my kitchen.
There is something a little ridiculous about babying a piece of meat for 10 hours on a Saturday. I do it anyway. The first bite, slaw cold against the warm pork and vinegar at the back of your throat, is worth every hour you did not nap.
Bbq Pulled Pork Sandwiches With Creamy Coleslaw
Ingredients
Equipment
Method
- The night before, pat the pork shoulder dry with paper towels. Slather all sides with the yellow mustard so the rub clings.
- In a small bowl, mix the kosher salt, coarse black pepper, smoked paprika, 3 tablespoons brown sugar, garlic powder, onion powder, and cayenne. Press this rub firmly into every surface of the pork, including the fat cap. Wrap loosely and refrigerate at least 8 hours or overnight.
- Remove the pork from the refrigerator 1 hour before smoking. Set up your smoker or charcoal grill for indirect heat at 225 F and add hickory or oak wood chunks.
- Place the pork shoulder fat side up directly on the grates. Close the lid and smoke, maintaining 225 to 250 F, for about 4 hours undisturbed.
- While the pork smokes, make the mop. In a spray bottle or bowl, combine 1 cup apple cider vinegar, the water, and the hot sauce. After the first 4 hours, spritz or brush the pork lightly every 45 to 60 minutes.
- Continue smoking until the internal temperature reaches 165 F and the bark is dark and set, about 6 hours total. Wrap the pork tightly in two layers of heavy-duty foil with a splash of the mop liquid inside.
- Return the wrapped pork to the smoker and cook until an instant-read thermometer slides into the meat with almost no resistance and reads 200 to 205 F, another 3 to 4 hours.
- Transfer the foil-wrapped pork to a sheet pan and let it rest, undisturbed, for 45 minutes. Do not skip this step or the meat will dry out.
- While the pork rests, make the slaw. In a large mixing bowl, whisk the mayonnaise, white vinegar, granulated sugar, Dijon mustard, celery seed, 1 teaspoon kosher salt, and 0.5 teaspoon black pepper until smooth.
- Add the shredded cabbage and shredded carrot. Toss thoroughly until every strand is coated. Cover and refrigerate at least 1 hour to chill and soften slightly.
- Make the finishing sauce. In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the remaining 0.5 cup apple cider vinegar, the ketchup, 2 tablespoons brown sugar, crushed red pepper flakes, and a pinch of salt. Simmer 3 minutes until the sugar dissolves, then remove from heat.
- Unwrap the rested pork over the sheet pan to catch the juices. Pull out and discard the bone, which should slide free cleanly. Using two forks or meat claws, shred the pork into shaggy strands, discarding any large pieces of fat.
- Pour the reserved pan juices and about half the finishing sauce over the pulled pork. Toss gently to dress the meat, adding more sauce a little at a time. The pork should glisten, not swim.
- Lightly toast the buns on the cooling smoker or in a dry skillet, cut side down, for about 30 seconds.
- Pile a generous mound of pulled pork onto each bottom bun. Spoon a heaping scoop of cold creamy coleslaw directly on top of the pork. Cap with the top bun, press gently, and serve right away with extra finishing sauce on the side.