For most of my early life, barbecue wasn’t much of a staple. Not because I didn’t like it—far from it—but because there simply weren’t a lot of barbecue options in Hattiesburg, Mississippi during the 1960s and 70s. There was a popular legacy restaurant called The Wagon Wheel, and it was beloved by locals, though many folks raved more about their yeast rolls than the actual barbecue. I’m sure I ate barbecue there at some point, but I wish I had eaten more. We just didn’t eat out much when I was a kid, and by the time I became interested in restaurants and food, The Wagon Wheel had served its last meal.
Barbecue is deeply regional in the South, with each region having its own signature style. In the Carolinas, it’s all about pork, often with a vinegar-based sauce that cuts through the richness. Alabama has its white barbecue sauce—a tangy, mayo-based concoction that's unique to the region. Around here, our sauces are typically sweet, sometimes spicy. Pork rules the barbecue world in most of the Deep South, from pulled pork to ribs. And while a perfectly smoked brisket is a culinary achievement, pork ribs and pulled pork outsell beef brisket in these parts without fail. Then there’s Texas—where beef reigns supreme. Whether it’s brisket, beef ribs, or beef sausage (hot links), Texas pitmasters have perfected the art of smoking beef. I was late to the Texas barbecue scene and remained partial to the styles I grew up on for many years. A year ago, I attended a catering convention in Austin and didn’t want to leave town without sampling some legendary Texas barbecue. Like everyone else, I’d heard the stories about Franklin Barbecue—where lines form at dawn, and everything sells out before lunchtime. I was tempted to wait it out at Franklin, but the convention schedule wasn’t going to allow it. After a little research, I landed on Terry Black’s Barbecue. It turned out to be a fortuitous decision. Since then, I’ve been to Terry Black’s in Dallas twice since, and their brisket is outstanding. I’ve sampled the pork ribs and sausage, but the standout—the revelation—was their barbecued beef rib. Until that visit, I had never tried a bbq beef rib. I’ve probably seen it on menus, but always defaulted to what I knew— pork. In our restaurant, Crescent City Grill, we have served over 3,000,000 pounds of whole lip-on ribeye since 1987. So, I’ve been surrounded by some of the finest beef cuts—prime rib and ribeye—for most of my life. But despite that, I somehow overlooked the magic of the beef rib. A perfectly smoked Texas-style beef rib is a true culinary delight. The bark—that charred, smoky exterior—provides a satisfying crunch, while the marbling in the meat keeps it moist and tender. The beef rib comes from a different section of the rib primal than the ribeye, with more connective tissue and a larger bone structure, which makes it perfect for slow smoking. Experiencing it felt like discovering a familiar friend in a new light. My preferred barbecue sauce is a blend of deep South sweetness and Carolina vinegar twang—the best of both worlds, in my opinion. But if the meat is smoked properly, sauce is more of a complement than a necessity.
Last year, I texted my friend, Chef Derek Emerson, after hearing he was opening a barbecue joint in Pocahontas, Mississippi. He replied that he was in Texas doing research and development at that moment. I told him to make sure he visited Terry Black’s. Within 30 seconds, he texted a photo from inside Terry Black’s, where he was standing at that exact moment. I immediately texted, “Get the beef rib,” and the next text showed that he was already one step ahead of me. Fast forward to this past December. I was in Jackson on business and decided to make the drive out to Pocahontas to check out Emersion’s new place—Sacred Ground Barbecue. Derek is a talented chef with multiple successful restaurant concepts in the Jackson area. He’s also a friend and one of the hardest-working people I know. He named the barbecue joint after the Indian mound located in Pocahontas, and knowing Derek, my expectations were sky-high. What I didn’t expect was to have those expectations surpassed. Sacred Ground Barbecue isn’t just good—it’s exceptional. In my opinion, it’s the best overall and complete barbecue joint in Mississippi and arguably one of the best in the South. That’s a bold statement, I know, but I challenge you to try it and compare it to your favorite spot. Emerson built two large smokers himself. That impresses me almost as much as his culinary prowess because I have no handyman skills whatsoever. He took over a building in Pocahontas that has been home to several businesses over the years. The place oozes character. It’s open Thursday through Sunday, from 11 a.m. until they run out of barbecue—usually around 7 p.m. And they do run out. Everything on the menu is stellar. They have pork ribs, pulled pork, brisket, smoked turkey, tri-tip, and yes, beef ribs. If you’ve never had a barbecued beef rib and your experience with barbecue has been confined to the Deep South, you’re in for something special. I’ve been to Sacred Ground twice now, and both times, Derek has looked exhausted. He’s doing what he’s always done—putting in the work. He has a pitmaster and a great team, but Derek is there at the crack of dawn and stays until closing time. His spirit and commitment have always been something I’ve admired, and this venture only deepened that admiration. Sacred Ground is an asset to central Mississippi. The pulled pork is juicy, the ribs have the perfect pull, and the brisket is tender with just the right amount of smoky bark. The vinegar sauce is some of the best I’ve had, and when I mix it with the sweeter sauce, it’s exactly what I’m looking for. On my first visit, I grabbed food to take to our lake house. Six hours later, reheated in the oven, it was still incredible. Emerson has created something rare—he’s brought to life the kind of barbecue joint I’ve always dreamed of building myself. It’s not envy, but admiration and respect for someone who nailed every detail and made the dream a reality. On my most recent visit, I brought my son along. I wanted him to see firsthand what it looks like when a chef-entrepreneur pours everything into a new venture. I also wanted him to experience barbecue the way it should taste. We made the drive in a torrential downpour to meet my brother, Drew, who shares our love for barbecue. As a former Memphis in May barbecue judge, Drew knows his way around smoked meat. The three of us shared a memorable meal. The Mississippi restaurant scene is fortunate to have Derek Emerson. He could’ve stopped after Walker’s Drive-In in Fondren, but instead, he kept raising the bar with Local 463 and CAET. Now he’s done something I’ve dreamed of for years—opened a barbecue joint. I came close a couple of times, even signing a lease before COVID derailed my plans. Maybe one day I’ll make it happen. But even if I do, and even if I knock it out of the park, Sacred Ground will still be the benchmark. It’s that good. Derek Emerson’s Sacred Ground isn’t just a barbecue joint—it’s the culmination of years of grit, research, and passion. In a world full of trends and shortcuts, Derek reminds us that some things—like great barbecue—require time, patience, and reverence. Sacred Ground isn’t just a name—it’s a truth. Finding Sacred Ground feels like uncovering a secret you almost missed—like discovering the magic of a perfectly smoked beef rib after years of serving ribeye. It’s a place where time slows down, and each bite whispers why hard work and craftsmanship matter. Derek didn’t just build a restaurant—he built a legacy worth every mile of the journey. Onward. Delta Tomatoes 2 Tbl Butter 1 Tbl Olive Oil 1 /2 cup Onion, medium dice 1 /2 cup Celery, medium dice 1 /2 cup Bell pepper, medium dice 28 oz can Tomatoes, diced 1 /4 cup Sugar 1 /4 cup Brown sugar 2 Tbl Fresh basil, chopped 2 tsp Dried basil 2 Tbl Cornstarch 2 Tbl Balsamic Vinegar 2 tsp Lawry’s Seasoned Salt 1 /2 tsp Black pepper 1 1 /4 cup Seasoned breadcrumbs 1 /4 cup Melted Butter Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Sautee onion, celery and bell pepper in butter and olive oil. Cook until onions are soft and translucent. Add tomatoes, both sugars and both basils. Mix cornstarch in vinegar and add to tomato mixture. Bring to a boil. Add salt and pepper and pour into a greased casserole. Mix together breadcrumbs and butter. Top tomatoes with breadcrumbs and bake 30-45 minutes or until filling is bubbly and breadcrumbs are lightly browned. Yield: 10 – 12 servings
