It's barbecue season, but unless you're from Texas or the Deep South, you probably don't know the true meaning of the word.
True barbecue is a lot more than slapping a burger on a grill. True barbecue is a ritual, an art and a lifestyle practised by hefty he-men tending their smoky pits in greasy dives from Austin to Atlanta. True barbecue involves hours and hours of slow smoking in search of the holy grail, Bill Clinton's second-biggest weakness, the ecstasy of a perfectly pulled pork sandwich.
It's also a competitive sport in the United States. At last count, more than 500 barbecue cooking contests took place throughout the Lower 48, and like a trail of thick and spicy sauce, competitive barbecue has been seeping across the border as Canadians begin to get a taste for the real thing.
Next month, Calgary will host the 10th annual Barbecue on the Bow competition, one of only three Canadian barbecue contests (the others are held in New Westminster and Surrey, B.C.) that are sanctioned by the Kansas City Barbecue Society.
Winning one of these official contests is a big deal for barbecue cooks. Not only can they collect big cash prizes, they win a berth at the American Royal contest in Kansas City and a chance to smoke with the world's best. That's where Canada's top team of Rockin' Ronnie and the Butt Shredders (a.k.a. Ron Shewchuk and his motley crew of smokers) went last year after they took top honours in the Oregon state championship, beating out American teams in pork butt, brisket and chicken. Shewchuk et al are back in Newberg, Ore., today to defend their title.
"This is high ceremonial cooking," says Shewchuk, who credits B.C. cherrywood and perfect knife skills for his wins. "It's a combination of the spices you use, the wood you use and the care you take -- it's a matter of very carefully tending the food over many, many hours."
Not for the faint of heart -- or the healthy heart, for that matter -- old-fashioned, slow-barbecue practitioners are tight-lipped about their secret sauces and signature rubs. And the competition is intense, with teams burning the midnight charcoal nonstop for up to 24 hours. It's a style of cooking that turns a fatty pork shoulder into tantalizing shreds of spicy pulled pork, makes the best tasting ribs and chicken and magically transforms a tough old brisket into tender, smoky roast beef nirvana.
That's the thing about slow barbecue: Once you've tasted the amazing flavour, you're hooked. Next thing you know, you're signing up for a weekend course and combing the aisles of Canadian Tire, searching for the perfect pit. And it won't be long before you're hanging out in the back yard all day with Bubba and the boys, contemplating your smoke ring and debating the merits of hickory versus mesquite.
Barbecue is the only food I know of that has an official society, two trade organizations, three annual conventions, three monthly newspapers and eight newsletters. In Calgary, pre-competition barbecue training camp is mandatory. Along with other converts, I have studied the art here with American barbecue legends such as Bob Lyon and Paul Kirk.
Kirk (a.k.a. the Baron of Barbecue) is a big, round, bear of a man, the kind of guy who knows that stoking a fire for 15 hours offers plenty of time to chew the fat and bend a few ears and a few elbows. When I attended a barbecue mini-camp in Kansas City, Kirk was there with his rig, a massive smoker on wheels big enough to fire up a few hundred pounds of pork butt or beef brisket. We learned what to rub, slather and mop (that's barbecue talk for baste) our meat with, the best equipment to use, and the tricks of presenting your smoked creations for official judging.
With little more than a bit of green leaf lettuce and a Styrofoam box as styling props, you can edge ahead of the competition if your brisket is neatly sliced (never torn) and meticulously fanned out for inspection.
But don't get carried away and try to gild the lily with a fancy red lettuce or arugula garnish -- your entry will be swiftly disqualified.
Competitive barbecue attracts all kinds of people. Calgary's contest regularly sees Alberta MLA John Lord, and his Lords of the Grill team, up against legendary blues musician Amos Garrett. Some teams come up with costumes and creative names, including the local Butt Shredders, Duelling Bubbas, Smokin' in the Boys Room and Pork, Sweat and Beers, the top 2001 Alberta team led by lawyer Rob Rakochey.
But even if you aren't the competitive type, you can hone your slow-barbecue skills at home. The ideal setup is a covered charcoal barbecue (a simple four-legged Sunbeam Patio Master or bulbous Weber kettle is standard issue for contests) or a bullet-shaped water smoker (the R2-D2 type you can find almost anywhere). Serious competitors invest in massive barbecues with offset fire boxes and trailer hitches for hauling to competitions, rigs that can cost much more than $2,000. And the cult favourite of smokers is the Big Green Egg, a U.S.-made super-efficient ceramic barbecue based on an ancient Japanese cooker.
But a regular gas or propane barbecue will work too, as long as you have more than one burner so that you can keep the heat low and indirect.
As you might have guessed, barbecue is not PC on any level. And while there's no law against smoking in the city, if you want to keep the peace in a crowded neighbourhood, you'll smoke discreetly, or at least invite everyone within sniffing distance over to eat. Better yet, when the air quality is already poor, take the smoker to the cottage and lounge around your pit with impunity.
Not all aficionados agree on the best meat to barbecue. In Texas, it's always beef brisket; in the Carolinas, you'll find only pork. At Canadian barbecue restaurants such as Dix BBQ in Vancouver or Dusty's Bar and BBQ in Whistler, B.C., you can try anything from slow-smoked pulled pork and Texas-style beef brisket to salmon. Dipamos in Toronto specializes in ribs and chicken.
Once you get your smoker going, it's fun to experiment with all kinds of meats and even vegetables. Smoked onions and tomatoes make delicious sauces and salsas, and slowly smoked eggplant is incredible. A side of salmon or a few fresh trout barbecue to perfection in just a couple of hours, while a pork butt will be falling into tender shreds after eight to 12 hours of low, slow smoking. Some cooks mop their barbecue with vinegar sauces, others choose tomato-based sauces or even combinations that include beer or coffee.
But it's not the sauces, rubs and mops that set slow barbecue apart. It's time -- the time it takes to sit back in the sun, tell stories, contemplate life and smell the smoke. No wonder people get hooked.
Barbecue basics Every barbecue cook has a favourite rub or marinade, but it's the heat-to-time ratio that determines the outcome and that's something that just takes practice and a little luck.
Pit or rig: That's what you call your equipment when you're a serious barbecue cook or pit master. A covered charcoal barbecue, water smoker or gas grill will work -- just keep the heat low, between 175 and 225 F. Start with 12 to 15 coals and feed the fire regularly to maintain an even low temperature, then add soaked aromatic wood chips or chunks for smoke. Always cook indirectly (with coals banked to one side or one gas element turned off). If using gas, put soaked wood chips in a special metal box or punctured foil pan and place directly on the lava rocks. Don't over-smoke: A small chunk of wood every hour or two is enough; too much gives a bitter taste.
Timing: Time is everything and you need lots of it. It's not an exact science: It's dependent on cooking temperature, outdoor temperature, wind, etc. The heat and smoke circulate over the food, cooking very slowly (about two hours for chicken breast or whole trout, three to four hours for half-chickens or pork ribs, and six to eight hours for pork roasts or beef brisket). A whole smoked turkey will take 45 to 60 minutes per pound. Water smokers let you feed the fire from the base -- every time you take the lid off to peek, you lose a lot of heat and increase your cooking time, so don't be tempted.
Dry rub: These are herb and spice mixtures that are massaged into the meat before cooking. I like to slather pork, chicken and ribs with some regular ballpark mustard before coating well with a rub that includes things like brown sugar, salt, garlic powder, paprika and black pepper.
Mop: Once the meat is smoking, you may want to spray or mop it to add moisture. Mops can be beer, wine or apple juice, combined with olive oil or melted butter, and flavoured with herbs.
Finishing sauce: This is the sauce that is glazed over the meat in the last 15 minutes of cooking, anything from a spicy tomato-based sauce to a sharp, vinegary mustard sauce. Make your own. It's traditional -- and always a secret.
The Circuit: Upcoming Canadian barbecue contests include the Canadian National BBQ Championship Aug. 3 and 4 in Whistler, B.C. (call Michelle Robinson at 604-938 7353) and Barbecue on the Bow, Aug. 31 and Sept. 1 in Calgary (Call Carol Dougall at 403-225-1913). To learn more, join the Kansas City Barbecue Society ( http://www.rbjb.com or 1-816-765-5891) and you'll get a subscription to their regular Bullsheet newspaper. Or visit a slow barbecue site that's linked to hundreds of others, http://www.smokering.net. PULLED PORK BUTT
Pork butt (or shoulder) is one of the most forgiving meats for barbecue. Use your own herbs or spices in the rub, and experiment with glazes, mops and different woods for smoking. Buy wood in chunks if you have a charcoal smoker, or chips if you plan to smoke on a gas barbie.
1 3-pound pork butt or shoulder roast
¼ cup regular ballpark mustard Dry Rub:
1 tablespoon kosher salt
¼ cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons each: brown sugar, ground cumin, ground ginger, chili powder, black pepper, garlic powder
¼ cup sweet Hungarian paprika
1 tablespoon dry mustard
Sauce:
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
¼ cup mustard
1 tablespoon ketchup
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
1 teaspoon Tabasco sauce
1 clove garlic, pressed
Wood chips or chunks (hickory, apple or mesquite) soaked in water
Crusty buns
Rub pork with mustard to coat. Combine dry rub ingredients and massage generously over all surfaces of the meat. Leave roast at room temperature for 10 minutes to allow rub to get tacky. This will help form a nice crust to seal in juices.
Place pork in a smoker or barbecue over indirect heat (away from coals or on unlit side of gas barbecue) with a drip pan below the meat. Keep the heat constant and low, about 200-225 F, and cook until meat can easily be pulled apart with two forks (internal temperature of about 170 F). This will take 6 to 8 hours. During cooking, add some soaked wood for a 10-minute burst of smoke every hour or two. If using gas, put wood chips in a metal smoke box or perforated foil package, directly over the lava rocks.
Combine the sauce ingredients in a small saucepan over medium heat and whisk until warm and combined. When pork is very tender, pull into shreds and pile onto crusty buns. Drizzle some sauce over each pulled pork sandwich. Serves six. (From High Plains: The Joy of Alberta Cuisine, by Cinda Chavich (Fifth House/Fitzhenry & Whiteside).