How I learned to BBQ...

My first experience with barbecue was about 4 years ago. My father-in-law had a tiny bullet style water smoker hidden away among the treasures in his dragon’s lair of a basement. He had always wanted to try it. However, he had no idea of how and even less of a notion as to what to cook in it. That’s when I came into the picture. I am one of those guys that can never admit not knowing something. So, when he asked me about it I offered to teach him how to use it. Truth be told, I had never even seen a water smoker before. Needless to say, I wasn’t about to admit that my knowledge of BBQ was solely based on Food Network’s coverage of Memphis in May.

Anyway the next afternoon, after stopping at Barnes & Noble, I went to the Shaw’s (a local supermarket) to buy a Boston butt to barbecue the following day. To my dismay nothing in the meat chest was labeled Boston butt. All I could find were pork loin roasts. They looked like what I saw on TV, they were a good size and they were pork. How different could a pork loin roast be from a Boston butt? Obviously I was not very observant because I ended up buying a 7 pound pork roast thinking I was going to turn it into pulled pork.

With absolutely no idea that I had purchased the wrong cut of meat I happily headed home to prepare what I thought to be my first Boston Butt. I figured, how hard could it be? According to the directions that came with the smoker all I needed was charcoal, a little BBQ wood, dry rub and water. Charcoal was easy enough to get, the water smoker came with a few chunks of hickory, and I had grill seasoning. After washing it thoroughly, I carefully started to trim some of the fat off. This took all of 30 seconds, considering there was very lean. Soon after I applied the dry rub (grill seasoning), wraped the pork and placed it in the refrigerator for the night. I was ready to go, in 24 hours I would be eating my very first homemade pulled pork sandwich.

My alarm sounded at 5AM. It was a beautiful Saturday in June and I knew that if I was going to serve Boston Butt for dinner that evening I had better get a move on. I pulled myself out of bed, made a pot of coffee and headed outside to preheat the smoker and soak my hickory chunks. I had read the smoking instructions over and over again during the night and was confident that this was going to be a breeze. After prepping the smoker I returned to kitchen to retrieve my prized cut of meat. I figured a quick shower would allow the pork butt time to loose its chill and get the smoker up to temperature.

I grabbed the roast, a huge cup of coffee, my new book and headed for the backyard. The instructions that came with the smoker claimed that no thermometer was necessary on the smoker because the water pan would never allow the heat in the smoker to rise above the boiling point of water. I tossed two or three chunks of soaked hickory onto the burning coals and put the pork on the smoker at approximately 6.30AM. Still confident and still with no idea that Boston Butt and pork loin roast were two completely different cuts of meat I set my timer for two hours and went to find a chair. The instructions warned not open the smoker for any reason during the first two hours of cooking, unless of course the coals went out. Who was I to doubt the wisdom of the instruction book?

I grabbed my coffee and took a seat right next to the smoker. With one eye on it and the other on my new [first ever] BBQ cook book I began to enjoy the quite of my backyard on an early Saturday morning. Just to put things in perspective I was living directly across from the emergency room of Melrose Wakefield hospital. With my first sip of coffee I began to page through the book. The sweet smell of hickory smoke wafted by (surprisingly pleasant for 7AM) and my mind filled with images of St. Lois style ribs, smoked brisket and cornbread. I flip the page, only to reveal a butcher’s map of a pig. Ham, back ribs, spare ribs, tenderloin, whole shoulder, picnic and Boston butt.

The book went on to explain the different parts of the hog and why certain cuts were so great for BBQ. Pulled pork was made from Boston butts or picnics which were both cut from the shoulder. The vast marbling and connective tissue along with the heavy fat cap make shoulder cuts ideal for long and slow cooking. BBQ is all about keeping the temperature low and cooking the meat slow. Thus converting what would generally be considered uneatable cuts of meat in some of the tenderest and flavor food one could ever taste.

I never did admit my error.

Thank God For Pizza

My favorite part of football season is the food. Don’t get me wrong I love the game, especially the playoffs. If fact, if it wasn’t for my season tickets to the Patriots I would have never found real BBQ or hot sauce. I prepare for the tailgate with the same intensity that fuels Belichick’s coaching. Anyway, my parking lot tailgate opportunities ended last week when the Patriots trounced the Jets. Sorry to my New York contingent, but now at least we can all root for the better team.

In my zeal to continue in true tailgate tradition I thought I would try a new chili recipe. I shot to the market at around 8 AM to purchase today’s ingredients and a few pancake making essential for Anthony’s breakfast. On my return I immediately whipped up a quick batch of Sunday morning Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes. While Anthony and “Moringzilla” ate I began to chop, seed and sauté. There are few things better than the smell of frying pancetta on a rainy football Sunday morning. All was well; I even had every ingredient for the chile, a rare occasion in my kitchen and usually a bad omen.

Everything was going swimmingly (I have been dying to use that word) the meat was browned and all I had to do was add the wet ingredients and the first round of spices. Well, after seeding chilies in adobo sauce for what seemed liked an eternity all was prepped. I poured a beer over the perfectly browned beef, added a healthy shot of Jack Daniels and reduced the liquid by more than half. The aroma of whiskey steeped beef was absolutely intoxicating. I poured in a can of kitchen ready tomatoes, dumped in the chilies and adobo and began to add my spices. This is where it all went awry and became one of those times when I needed to take my own advice.

I always tell people when they cook to relax and remember that it’s only food. I have written many times reminding people that a pizza is only a phone call away. I live by the ideal “it’s only food”. Well today I was bested by a chili recipe. Overcome by a one pot meal and almost brought to tears by a commercial size container of Cumin. As I was adding the cumin, directly from the spoon side of the shaker top, the cap feel off. The entire brand spanking new bottle, 14 ounces, emptied into my magic chili pot.

This is one of those errors that chili doesn’t recover from and brings the pizza guy to the front door. I couldn’t think of anyway to fix it; the pot is not nearly big enough to add any amount of ingredients to balance off the flavor. There will be no homemade chili for game time today. Thank God for pizza and Chinese food. Enjoy the playoffs.