The first time I went to Lannie’s was the late ‘90s while working in Selma on a documentary about haunted houses. There’s something magical and mysterious about Selma, and it’s not just the ghosts. It’s a history that rides the fence of success. No other town has more stories of both triumph and suffering. At the time I didn’t appreciate Lannie’s while they continued to be named one of Alabama’s best barbecue joints.

Lannie’s had been stuck on my hit list for years before Eating Alabama decided to join me on an adventure to the Queen City of the Blackbelt. I was ready for another round as a number of national articles had recently named Lannie’s as one of America’s best. Now, being a seasoned barbecue man, I was ready to dig in with a freshly opened mind. That mind was quickly blown away.

Has food ever felt magical to you? Every once in a while, I have something that just shouldn’t be as good as it is. Lannie’s serves their pork with a crispy pork skin on top. It’s a crunchy little piece of pig candy, savory and sweet and stunning! I knew it was part of the ensemble, but I had no idea it would be a showstopper. I could have eaten those like chips in a Mexican restaurant. This isn’t a pork rind that puffs up like a rice cake. This is something all its own!

Let’s not forget the pork that was underneath. It was pulled but served in bigger hunks than most joints. The muscle fibers seemed larger and it reminded me of Grandma Dot’s pot roast and how it would fall apart. Each bite felt substantial although I didn’t distinguish any overriding flavor.  But served with a good dousing of Lannie’s sauce, I couldn’t get enough. The combined bite was beautiful and the more I ate the more I wanted. The sauce was a unique brew that was thin and acidic but somehow sweet and rich. I asked if the sauce was made from drippings collected as the pork fat rendered. I was light-heartedly warned that they could tell me but I wouldn’t be allowed to leave, which sounded more like a reward than a punishment.  Cleaning that last bite made me want to start all over again.

Between Eating Alabama and myself, we had five different sides. They were all good and we finished them with no regrets. Perhaps they seemed pedestrian because they came after that brilliant piece of fried skin. It was unexpected 100% and hasn’t left my mind since. I don’t know how they do it and I dare not ask. If they won’t tell on the sauce, they surely won’t tell on that. In fact, I’m better off not knowing. I mean, it’s not really magic if you know how it’s done.