Having grown up in Memphis, I’ve always had this perfected and unrealistic memory of what a barbecue sandwich should be. Smoky, a little sweet, tender and huge. I never thought I would find the pork sandwich of my dreams; it had become a mere theoretical construct — a figment of my imagination. Little did I know that behind the smoky grates of a repurposed U-Haul in Frayser I would find the pork sandwich of my dreams. The talkative proprietor of this joint’ll probably ask if you’re kosher if you don’t order pork. Probably just looking for a chance to brush up on his Hebrew. He’s an odd fella worth talking to. I’ve become a regular here. A pulled pork sandwich like this for four dollars is something I have trouble even believing