Pork pulled at Pit Stop

Anyone who lives in Mattapan knows where the best barbecue can be found. If you're not familiar with the Dot, go down Morton Street and look for the knot of cars congealing traffic around address 888. Three eights are a good numerological number for the Pit Stop Barbecue. A calligrapher couldn't make a better choice. The number eight has a handsome head and a swollen belly, three in a row resemble the line of customers that leads to the counter at the Pit Stop.

The Pit Stop is a little shack on the corner of Morton and Hannon Streets. Its chimney exhales the mouth-watering scent of smoked meats. The people who live in Morton Street Village must be the hungriest in Boston, their appetites are always stimulated by the smoke out of the Pit Stop.

The pork ribs have a national reputation as being the best Texan style, slowly cooked meat north of the Red River Valley. You will sometimes see Winnebegos parked on Morton Street that belong to pilgrims who have made the trip east and north from southern, desert states to taste the best barbecue New England has to offer. It makes me feel fortunate to live a mere mile and a half away.

The pulled pork sandwich is a regular favorite, as are the pork ribs. Rich, salty, flavorful sauce that hasn't been replicated at any other, more fancy outlets complements the smoky meat the Pit Stop offers Thursdays through Sundays at a price every Mattapan citizen can afford. Local high school students and Back Bay Lotharios both report that the best way to get a date in an amorous mood is to offer her a meal of pulled pork. The Pit Stop often runs out of menu items due to excessive demand, but the demand for pulled pork sandwiches always seems to be the first supply that's exhausted. The rumors may be true, the pulled pork may be an aphrodisiac. The theory has been tested enough times to have street credibility.

The Pit Stop is more than a barbecue pit, if hearsay is to believed. It is also a passion pit, at least off premises. There isn't enough room in the Pit Stop for an orgy, only for takeout.

I was chatting up a couple of college students at Teatro, on Boston Common last night. They told me, "Spanish Fly drops have nothing on Pit Stop pork. That sandwich is a one-way ticket to heavy petting and then it's easy to get it punched for a transfer to the next zone." I asked if they were worried about the Swine Flu epidemic that may be heading to Boston. "I don't think past tomorrow morning," one rake replied.