Strawberry's i Holcomb: Good food, Grandpa and God moments

Last week I did something out of the ordinary — I used a vacation day in the middle of the week to visit Strawberry's at 107 Main St. in Holcomb, Missouri. I invited a friend to come along and did something else out of the ordinary — I left Big Red at home and accepted my friend's offer to drive. When he arrived I told him it was a birthday celebration. He shot me a quizzical look before asking, "It isn't your birthday, is it?" Nope, but I decided I don't need a calendar to tell me when to celebrate. I would celebrate being born whenever, however and with whomever I wanted. On that day, the celebration was measured in miles — 139 miles round trip to be exact.

According to the story on Strawberry's website, Jerry "Straw" Holsten was a factory worker in the 1970s when he began dabbling in barbecue. He eventually entered the Show Me State Bar B Que contest in Kennett, Missouri. He placed dead last. That lit a fire in him. He honed his skills, later returning to the competition and placing third. "My third-place trophy is one of my proudest possessions." "Straw" decided the secret to success was in the sauce. He reached out for help, and a gourmet cook in the area shared a barbecue sauce recipe dating back to slavery. In fact, the cook got it from the grandson of a former enslaved person who lived in Portageville, Missouri. Straw experimented and eventually took it from a wet sauce to the championship seasoning you may recognize from a grocery store near you. Straw eventually earned an invitation to compete in the well known "Memphis in May" barbecue contest where he left a top-10 world championship finisher. Straw's proudest moment came later, when he met with the grandson of the original recipe creator who gave him the seal of approval after tasting the refined concoction stating, "that's the same sauce I ate when I was a boy."

Strawberry's fits the definition of hole in the wall. It's a tiny place in the middle of "nowhere." Our server, Virgie, met us at the table. I ordered the small rib plate with scalloped potatoes and fried okra. My friend ordered the pork steak with baked beans and fried okra. Straw was not exaggerating — we tasted the fruits of his labor. The pork steak was huge and mouthwatering. I love sauce but I dipped sparingly in order to savor the slow labor of love that is ribs. My favorite? The scalloped potatoes. I expected great barbecue and got it, but I was not expecting scalloped potatoes. I could eat a whole bowl of those by myself. We were pleased and stuffed. We joked there should be cots in the back for patrons to sleep off the food coma before heading home, but I guess you could easily work it off playing pool or setting a new high score on the Ms. Pac-Man game.

A meal from Strawberry's is shown.Submitted by Mary Ann Castillo

On the trip home, I soaked in the sun and miles of farmland outside my car window as my friend identified various crops. I pointed, "Is that cotton? I should take a picture." I silently reminisced about my family history. Grandparents picking strawberries and cotton as teenagers. The Pioneer company logo on my grandfather's baseball cap. He worked there for decades. Memories known only through stories passed down. We couldn't imagine living way out "in the country." As I admired the clear blue sky and fluffy clouds I received a text. My grandfather had passed. Suddenly I was having a God moment while in a car with a friend who lost his faith long ago.

Any other day would have found me consumed with the responsibilities of the work day while pushing aside anything personal. Not that day. That day was orchestrated in a divine way. A day off. A grandson's recipe. Wild Tulip Art posting an out of the norm painting of a little white country house titled "Peace in the Country." Later discovering my grandfather's last request was to go "back to the ranch" to the little white house where he and grandma started a family. I'd never known about that house. I immediately felt grandpa was at peace. He had joined us for lunch, said goodbye and was "back at the ranch" in the little white house with grandma. This foodie adventure is dedicated to grandpa and the generations that came before.

Until next time, keep sharing good food and God moments.

A meal from Strawberry's is shown.A meal from Strawberry's is shown.