Before getting started, I want to give a shout-out to FCG’s first tipster, Casey, who recommends a visit to the Caseus Cheese Truck and the Cupcake Truck. I’ll get to the Cheese Truck eventually, but it struck me as a bit too obvious a place to visit this early in the blogging endeavor. (How many other food carts in New Haven have been featured in the New York Times?) I need to build some street cred, first, and that means not going after the low-hanging fruit. As for the Cupcake Truck … Maybe when I’m in the mood for cupcakes, but don’t hold your breath. Nothing against cupcakes, but when I get that rumble in the tumble, I tend to go for the cheesy and savory over the sticky and sweet.

Anyway, I took a quick swing by New Haven’s Union Station in search of a soul food cart I spotted there there the other day. Of course, it was nowhere in sight. But as I made the illegal u-turn to head home (right in front of the police department, natch), I had a flash. A couple of weeks ago, I’d been up in Wallingford, scouting for holiday gifts. Hadn’t there been some sort of barbecue cart set up there?

Why, yes! Yes there had!

You don’t see a lot of barbecue up in these parts, never mind smell it when you’re locking up your car in a random suburban parking lot. But there’s no mistaking the odor of hickory smoke and sizzling porkflesh.

Big Country’s Hickory Pit BBQ is just the kind of joint you see — and smell — by the roadside all over the southlands. (The best barbecue I ever had was in Brandon, Fla., but that’s another story.) Anyhow, it’s basically a trailer carrying a shack, a pit and a stack of hardwood for the fire. It was opened last summer by a pair of Meriden police officers, Michael Coviello and Bud Gibbs, who had detected a distinct lack of quality barbecue in the region. Located in the lot outside Chef’s Equipment Emporium — a local foodie’s paradise if ever there was one — it seems destined to attract people who want the authentic experience.

The menu features ribs, chicken, brisket and pulled pork, with a short list of sides: smoked mac and cheese, beans, coleslaw, potato salad and, of course, corn bread. Platters, which come with corn bread and one side order, range from $4.99 for six BBQ buffalo wings to $22.99 for a full rack. There are also sandwiches: pulled pork for $5.49; the “Pig Mac” (pulled pork topped with mac and cheese) for $5.99, beef brisket for $6.49 and the “Moo Mac” (a bovine version of the “Pic Mac”).

Pulled pork and macaroni and cheese? Let’s see … porkflesh … cheese … pasta … bread — yeah, that covers all the major food groups, at least the ones I care about. Sign me up!

I dug in. Despite the bun, this was fork food … pig meat dripping with fat and cheese. The pork had been rendered to a state close to gelatinous, requiring virtually no chewing. The mac and cheese was smoky and slightly cheddary. You wonder why anyone would go through all the hassle of eating these two foods separately — biting from the sandwich, swallowing, putting it down, locating the fork, digging into the mac and cheese, swallowing, putting the fork down, picking up the sandwich again, and so on — when they were obviously meant to mingle in every bite.

This meal was a bit shy of perfection, however (perhaps owing partly to the fact that my sense of taste is still recovering after a cold). I tend to like my barbecued pork on the tangy side. This was sweet, but there was little tang. I also like a dash of heat. (I’d have liberally sprinkled my sandwich with red pepper flakes, had they been available.) Also, I tend to enjoy barbecued pork more if is a little more charred — those crusty, toasty bits add both taste and texture.

But it’s hard to complain when you’re in a food coma. Big Country is about as close to the real thing as you’re going to find this far north of the Mason-Dixon Line. Worth a return visit.

Prices: Platters $4.99-$22.99, sandwiches $5.49-$6.99

3-1/2 stars (out of five)