A Spicy Take on Tradition

“If there’s no struggle, there’s no progress.” – Frederick Douglass

Some dishes tell a story of survival, of making the best out of what you have, and finding not just sustenance but strength. Brunswick Stew is one of those dishes. Its origins are as cloudy as a late autumn morning—claimed by Virginia, embraced by Georgia, and refined across Appalachia—but its purpose has always been clear. Brunswick Stew is about taking what’s left and creating something remarkable.

It’s a stew born from ingenuity, a way to stretch the last bits of smoked meat, garden vegetables, and pantry staples into a meal that not only feeds but comforts. It’s not flashy, but it doesn’t have to be. It’s a dish that doesn’t waste and doesn’t rush. Like life, the best results come when you let it simmer.

From Fire and Smoke to the Pot

Barbecue and Brunswick Stew share a common origin: fire. Indigenous peoples smoked meat to preserve it, a technique that colonists adapted, and enslaved Africans enriched with their own culinary traditions. Barbecue became a slow, smoky ritual, while stews like Brunswick took the leftovers and extended their reach.

At its heart, Brunswick Stew is a story about resilience—about finding beauty in chaos, sustenance in scraps, and joy in the act of creation. What started as a necessity became a tradition, carried forward by people who refused to let what they had go to waste. That’s the spirit of Brunswick Stew.

How Brunswick Stew Found Its Fire

Over time, Brunswick Stew evolved. The wild game of its earliest days—squirrel, rabbit—gave way to pork and chicken. Smoky flavors joined the pot, pulled straight from the barbecue pits that had become fixtures of Southern cooking.

In Appalachia, where communities were often miles apart, stews like this brought people together. They were served at gatherings, shared at church suppers, and ladled out in generous portions at family tables.

Brunswick Stew is versatile, but it’s not timid. This version leans into bold, smoky flavors, with just enough heat to remind you to pay attention. What sets my stew apart is that it’s made entirely from scratch each week, adjusted and refined every time I make it. Some weeks, the corn is roasted a little longer for extra depth; other weeks, the peppers take on a brighter note.

It’s never exactly the same, but it’s always aiming for something I haven't gotten to yet. This recipe? This is the first time I’ve ever written it down. It’s the stew as it is today, and while I think it’s pretty great, I’ll probably tweak it again when I make it this morning—because that’s how I find what works. It would probably help if I used an actual measuring cup... but that's BBQ.

Ingredients:

• 1 lb smoked pork (pulled)

• 2 cups chicken stock

• 1 cup canned crushed tomatoes

• 1/2 cup ketchup (or 1/4 cup tomato paste)

• 1 large onion, diced

• 1/2 cup red bell pepper, diced

• 1/2 cup green bell pepper, diced

• 2 jalapeños, deseeded and finely chopped

• 2 cups roasted corn kernels

• 1 cup baby lima beans

• 2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

• 4 tablespoons brown sugar

• 2 teaspoons smoked paprika

• 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper (adjust to taste)

• Salt and black pepper to taste (I favor the pepper)

Instructions:

1. Heat a large stock pot over medium heat and sauté the onions, red and green peppers, and jalapeños in a little oil until soft and fragrant.

2. Stir in the crushed tomatoes, ketchup (or tomato paste), chicken stock, Worcestershire sauce, brown sugar, smoked paprika, and cayenne. Stir well and bring to a gentle simmer.

3. Add the roasted corn and lima beans. Let everything bubble away until the flavors meld and the stew starts to thicken.

4. Stir in the smoked pork and chicken, turn the heat down to low, and let everything come together for 30 minutes. Stir occasionally, taste, and adjust the seasoning as needed.

5. Serve it hot with cornbread or cornbread waffles on the side.

   
   

Why It Endures

Brunswick Stew isn’t just a meal; it’s a reminder. It speaks to the strength it takes to move forward when the path isn’t clear, to make something beautiful out of what remains. It’s food that fills you up, not just with calories, but with the quiet satisfaction that comes from transforming scraps into sustenance.

Each week, as I stir the pot and taste my way through it, I’m reminded that this stew—like BBQ, people, and life itself—is always a work in progress. This recipe is where I’ve landed for now, but the next batch might be just a little bit closer to perfect.

That’s Brunswick Stew—humble, hearty, and proof that sometimes, the best things come from the most unexpected places.