 On Barbecue (or "Barbecue in a Nutshell") By Glen WILLARD |
I write this dissertation as a public service-an educational project to benefit the uneducated mass of humanity that knoweth not of barbecue. I write without (so far) public funding and bereft of NGO sponsorship. While not normally evangelical as to my beliefs, I nevertheless feel compelled to step forward when duty summons. That time has come.
The immediate causes that bring forth this call to educate are Robert Reed's Barbecue Spareribs recipe in this month's UO and an invitation to a barbecue on a Dnipro River outing recently received. Now the use of the word barbecue in both these instances is correct and perfectly in order. This is true even though neither the recipe nor the river outing had anything to do with barbecue. (Note-I do quarrel with Robert's use of the adjectives pork and beef, respectively, in front of spareribs and short ribs. I think it a bit condescending to the Readers of the UO to imply that they don't know pork from beef.)
To continue. It has become acceptable to describe grilling as barbecuing. In fact, in California doing anything outdoors (except, maybe, having sex) is considered barbecuing. Again I have absolutely no quarrel with the terminology. I'm compelled to write solely to explain what barbecue is. I have found that truly, to my surprise, there are people who don't know about barbecue or have it confused with something else.
And hopefully, if I can get people to understand what barbecue is I can go further. For instance one needs to know what a "barbecue place" is; know how to find a barbecue place; and should know the difference between a barbecue place and a "barbecue joint".
Also, I'd like for people to know the difference between being "invited to a barbecue" and being "invited to a barbecue". I know those seem to sound the same and the words are the same but the event is different depending on who it is that's doing the inviting.
Oh heck. I think I'll just go ahead and explain that last first. Ok. We're talking about a barbecue, the event and not the food here. So if someone ask you to go to Senator Fogbottom's or Joe Representative's barbecue or if Sally ask you to go to the barbecue after church on Sunday you have been invited to a political event or a picnic at which barbecue may are not be served. If a good friend or if Uncle Joe or Cousin Minnie says, "Come to the barbecue. It starts Friday night." Then you have been invited to a barbecue. Bring extra clothes, your own libation and don't leave before Saturday night or you will have insulted the host. Plan on eating lots of barbecue. At some barbecues (depends on the host) bring money and a couple of decks of fresh cards.
The origin of the word barbecue is generally traced to the Bantu tribe of western Africa or to the Caribs and Arawaks native to the islands of the Caribbean. The Carib theory makes more sense to me but that's all irrelevant because the actual food is native to a geographical area of the American South. That geographical area includes all of the States of the old Confederacy with limitations. The area stops before one gets to Northern Virginia and goes westward into only a small eastern portion of the state of Texas. And don't forget your history. Neither Kentucky nor Oklahoma, sometimes considered southern, were a part of the Confederacy. And they thus are outside the geographical boundary.
Now inside the geographical area there are many variations on barbecue. And a lot of fussing and fighting about those variations. But on one thing there is certainty. Yes, by God, unanimity. Barbecue is pork. And by damn, don't forget it or say otherwise. That's all. And settled the matter is.
Now having said that barbecue is pork and that it is Southern let me step back. You don't have to be Southern to know and appreciate and even cook good barbecue. While it's a help to be Southern born to barbecue it's not a requirement. After all, one doesn't have to be French to be a French chef or to enjoy French food. Same concept. Heck, I want more people to know barbecue. I want to find more good barbecue to eat. And I confess to appreciating Ukrainian shasklik (pork variety) because, while not barbecue, it at least gets my mouth to watering and my mind wandering.
Now we Southerners, depending on where we're from, all have our preferences. But truthfully I'm going to eat barbecue whether it's sliced, hand-pulled or even chopped. And, while I like a vinegar and onion based sauce, I won't quarrel if it's mustard or ketchup or something else based so long as the barbecue is good. Now, notice-barbecue sauce is not even required for barbecue.
Barbecue place and Barbecue joints. Barbecue joints dot the Southern landscape. One can be found in most any small town. They're sometimes even found outside the South. But, I don't think there are any barbecue places outside the South. I've personally never found one in a big city though some are outside of small towns. Someone told me of a barbecue place in Memphis once. Turns out he was talking about the Rendezvous, a great barbecue rib experience (Elvis used to order take-outs from Las Vegas) that I used to frequent back in the early 60s but it's not a barbecue place.
One may personally find a half dozen to a dozen barbecue places in a lifetime. Most true Southerners know most all of them although they may have only been to a few. Example: Joe and Pete sitting in a bar in Atlanta. Joe - "Pete, I have to fly to Birmingham tomorrow...think I'll rent a car and go to the barbecue place." Pete - "The one down south near Dothan or the one near Opelika?"
Pit barbecue. All barbecue places are pit barbecues. Simply described: cooked slowly over hardwood coals in some type of covered shed or other area. Mostly the pit never stops... ever (death of the principle operator sometimes will shut them down). A preferred hardwood is used (e.g. white oak). Forget all the garbage about the magic of hickory chips and a hickory flavor (And God forbid, don't mention mesquite.)
The secret. Certainly not the damn sauce. Some do bast the pork before putting on the pit. And as the meat approaches proper doneness may be basted more. But never with anything that could be called barbecue sauce, The secret though is to cook slowly enough that the pork breathes. It is breathing when moisture is bubbling on the pork. This means it is being thoroughly cooked. If the meat stops bubbling it is nearly done or, if it occurs too soon, the pork has cooked too fast and the pores have closed (solution-start over).
The cut of meat. Usually shoulders or hams. I like the butts (Boston butt cut. A lower part of the shoulder-I think). For the uninformed: The butt comes from the front of the hog; the ham, the rear.
The barbecue (the event). South Georgia style: Dig a hole about 18 inches deep and 6-8 foot square; find a good gauge wire to be later stretched over the hole (hogwire will do if held nailed to logs or 4x6s); invite a bunch of people over for the evening; spend the night burning white oak sections (throwing them on the fire as necessary); when 4 to 6 inches of coals are on the bed of the hole and there are no flames (generally about first light) one is ready to place 6 to 10 (depending on the number of people), 4 to 6 pound Boston butts that have been basted overnight on the hogwire grill. The men take turns being responsible for further basting and monitoring the cooking. The women meanwhile are stirring the Brunswick stew. Generally after about 6 hours the meat is done and the eating begins. The night has been spent drinking beer (or stronger), playing cards, watching the flames, telling stories funny (as opposed to telling funny stories as Jerry Clower used to say) and occasionally sleeping (as necessary). The barbecue usually ends late on that day after sleeping some after eating and a little more late partying. Then home-tired, but happy.
Well that's it for now. But this is just Barbecue 101. Next month maybe something on gumbo. Hint-gumbo is an African word for okra. No okra, no gumbo.
But... then there's sassafras and file` gumbo...
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Read also previous issue' articles:
What it Was, Was Football
An American in Perish
The Baseball Way to Pleasure and Wisdom
What a Fine Mess
At My Table
The King is Gone- and So are You
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