Just Porkin'

If there was a heaven, this is what it'd smell like

I have a lot of weaknesses, most centering around food, hence my svelte body image and kitchen full of cookware. One of the biggest of food borne weakness is the smell of a pit with some sort of meat slowly roastifying over a bed of glowing hardwood coals. If I were that Pitmaster, I would charge folks for just hanging out and basking in the smoky love emanating from my hardworking pit.

As for the meat, pork shoulder/butt is my pick. Practically bullet proof, flavorful, and adapts to many dishes from burritos to Cuban sandwiches – hell, might ever be good as a topping for that ice cream. Then there is just the plain old ordinary pulled pork sandwich. I'm not going to get into an argument over sauce for the sandwich because I believe if properly seasoned to begin with, it doesn't need sauce. When I hit a barbecue place I want any sauce on the side so I can taste the meat on its own to ensure that the sauce isn't being used to cover up shitty barbecue. Life's to short to be eating McRib style BBQ, plain and simple.

Small pork roast with rub applied

To avoid shittyness, it is imperative to have good meat, a good rub, and patience. The meat can be bought at the market preferably a market with a high turnover so you aren't picking up last months super sale shoulder. Be even better if you butchered your own hogs, but most HOAs would wet their pants if you started keeping pigs, besides I have a husky and he'd eat the damn things before I could. Then there's the rub.

I'll put a recipe for a basic rub at the end, but use some sense – taste, add, taste. If you don't taste your spices you will never develop the touch needed to make good anything. And remember to taste your end product – it'll be strong, but that is okay as that flavor has a lot of meat to permeate. At this point you might even consider injecting the meat thereby introducing more flavor and moisture to the heart of the matter, but more on that another time. “Rub” isn't just a catchy name, it is the way the spices are applied. You could slather the meat with mustard to keep the process moist and paste like, but I prefer to sprinkle on copious amounts of rub and drizzle some olive oil to create a paste that is easier to massage into the meat. You'll want full coverage and time for the rub to do its thing, that is wrap it in foil and drop it in the fridge for a couple hours or overnight.

Hunk o' smoked po'k

Fire up the old smoke bucket, and when the coals* are all little chunks of white hot hardwood drop them in the grill for indirect cooking. If you don't know what indirect cooking is at this stage of the game there may be little help for you, but as the word implies, coals on either side of the grill, meat in the center. Normally I'd put a pan of beer in between the coals, but since I start the meat still wrapped in the foil, this is no big deal. I let the meat roast for a couple of hours in its own juices, then open the foil, drop chunks of hickory, mesquite or fruit wood on the coals and close the grill up so the smoke can do its thing. I usually start with hickory or mesquite, then finish with some fruit wood.

Here's a basic rub, the bulk is paprika and brown sugar. The best thing about making your own rub is you control the amount of salt and other ingredients, whereas the commercial brands are sodium heavy and have unpronounceable things in them.

1/4 cup dark brown sugar

1/2 cup sweet paprika

1Tbs kosher salt

1 Tbs granulated garlic powder

1 Tbs granulated onion powder

1 Tbs chili powder

2 Tsp cayenne pepper

And make sure you taste this and adjust to your liking, then smear the meat with it (you can add cooking oil to give it a more paste'like texture – you'll want a lot of the rub on the meat. 

* I prefer "Mr. Stubb's" Hardwood charcoal. I used to use lump charcoal, but between the nails, rocks, and hug chunks of tree limbs in the natural hardwood bags, I reverted to regular, albeit hardwood, charcoal. 

Requiem for a turkey

Well it's all over but the shouting, you've finally seen the back of all the relatives, and all that's left of the Thanksgiving feed is the last can of Who-Hash. Now to plop down in a comfy chair and let the healing begin so you're in one piece by the time X-mas rolls around. Tough to think of food at a time like this, but those turkeys turned out pretty nice, one started with hickory and finished with apple, the other started with apple and finished with cherry. Both came out juicy and tasty and this is a good time to recap why, and if really ambitious write it down for next year ( I am not that ambitious and besides, I cannot resist tinkering as I cook).

Slip me some skin

Edible non-rubbery skin is a good goal for any poultry project and salt is the answer, or at least part of the answer. This step does add to prep time, but salting the skin with copious amounts of kosher salt so the grains are very noticeable, covering it with some snarl wrap (aka plastic wrap, one of the devil's own tools), and leaving it in the fridge for 2 hours will bring the bird a long way down the crispy skin road. Once the time is up unwrap the turkey and rinse thoroughly to remove the salt and proceed with prep.

Fun between the membranes

Now for the really icky part, slip your fingers between the skin and the breast meat starting at the turkey ass-end and working your way towards the gobble, break the connections between the skin and the flesh. The idea is to create a stuff-able space in between the membranes so you can add stuff – what stuff, you might ask? Well, nearly anything from old gym socks to the entire contents of a lava lamp, but I'd stick to lubricants and herbage such as bacon strips and rosemary. I used both in my turkeys and they did add moisture and flavor to the bird, but by checking the “Flavor Bible” you may find other combinations that might suit your fancy, perhaps sage herb butter or vegetable oil and chopped garlic.

Get stuffed

I don't put stuffing in the bird, but the gaping cavity where the ass used to be does scream for some sort of filling and presents another chance to welcome flavor aboard the SS Rotting Carcass. I'm lucky enough to have a small forest of rosemary in the front yard and a lemon tree in the back, so my choices are obvious. If you're Hill-folk, you might be tempted to shove another animal, such as a duck up the turkey's ass and then shove a chicken up the duck's ass to boot. I'd stick to some sort of herbs and fruit personally, but experimentation is part of the process of growing as a cook so have at – bearing in mind that for all practical purposes you are serving this to fellow humans who might not care for the flavor of that smoldering “Tickle Me Elmo” that you inserted on a dare.

Hard Wood

While attempting to avoid any dick jokes, wood is important to the barbecue process and will add beautiful smokey over tones to compliment the other flavors you have forced upon the dead bird. Mesquite, the usual go to wood out here in the desert is way too bitter, so it is off on a scavenger hunt for other hard woods that won't overpower the fowl, such as hickory or oak. I used hickory chunks to lay the base of the flavor , then half way through the process switched to apple wood to bring on some sweet, and that worked well for my first bird. On the second I opted to start with the apple and then switch to cherry, which rendered a very sweet tasting flesh, quite nice in fact.

Fire it up

I use a chimney style starter to avoid having my food taste like it was brought to you by Shell Oil, and lay the coals down to provide indirect heat, that is a pile of hot coals on one side and a pile of hot coals on the other with a pan of liquid (in this case beer) in between. The pan catches drippings and the liquid instills flavor and steam to aid in moisturizing the boid. I cover the breast with a foil heat shield to slow the cooking of fore mentioned meat, which helps the dark meat get a head start while keeping the white meat moist, and who doesn't like tender moist breasts I ask? Towards the end of the process I mop the bird with some melted butter to aid in the crispification of the skin as well as the rich goodness of buttery, buttery butter.

TTFN

And here we are once again, at the very end of the tail, or Parson's Nose at it is called by our Appalachian brethren. Hopefully the information will help me to remember what I did next time, help you next Thanksgiving of if doing a turkey just for the sake of it – turkey is cheap and readily available through out the year, after all. Next we must set our eye's upon Saturnalia and try to figure out what to serve the next onslaught of relatives that will keep their mouths busy so one doesn't have to listen to all their crap. Just kidding, no really I am. I enjoy cooking and don;t get the chance to cook for groups very often so I do thank everyone for allowing me to inflict my lack of culinary skills upon them ever holiday. I'd also like to thank my grill, which even after fourteen long years still cooks like a champ.  

The Bird, the Whole Bird, and nothing but the Bird...

Though enamored with the boneless turkey roasts, my daughter decided that I should go back to the whole bird for the sake of the grandkids so they might experience the Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving of days gone by. I have to admit there is no romance in the boneless roasts, though they do resemble a football, which is appropriate considering the relatives sleeping through the Giants game in the living room. I had cooked the whole bird when my own kids were smaller. I used the oven, turkey bags (which work very well) , and finally the grill. Once I plopped ol' Tom Turkey on the hot grids I never looked back, though there was one episode that didn't go as planned.

Turkzilla

We were going to celebrate Turkey day with some friends and they said they'd provide the bird and so they did on the day of the festivities they brought over a monster turkey, perhaps the biggest I'd ever seen. The 23 pound beast did fit on my grill, however when I tried to put the cover on my Weber to commence roasting, it just rocked back and forth on top of the bird. The clock was running on this meal with only a few hours until meal time so I had to do some fast thinking. I tired jury rigging the grill by using bricks to prop the top, but that still didn't allow for covered cooking, so violating every rule in my microwave owner's manual, I stuffed the behemoth in the microwave and cooked the hell out of it, finishing it in the oven to get some brown on the skin. The fowl came out very nicely despite the unorthodox and potentially lethal cooking methods.

Prep

Getting the bird ready for the grill is half the battle, maybe even ¾ as the prep will help determine if the bird is a dry chunk of meat in a rubber bag of skin, or a moist bird with crispy golden hide. This is also your chance to introduce a bit of flavor by separating the skin form the breasts (carefully) and inserting various food related items. Herbage is always welcome, moisturizers such as strips of bacon or pats of butter are also a good addition, or for something off the scale try Martin Yan's Chinese Roast Turkey – possibly the most flavorful bird I ever grilled up. In fact I may do that this year accompanied with Yan's superb stuffing recipe.

As for the skin, salting the outside of the bird with kosher salt so that the salt is visible, then wrapping and refrigerating for about 2 hours puts you on the road to crisp skin. After the two hours, bring the bird out and rinse thoroughly to get all the salt off. Them pierce the skin with a fork and part way through the cooking mop the skin with some oil – olive, not motor.

Fire it Up

Once you have pimped out your bird the next step is to arrange indirect heat on the grill by placing coals on either side leaving an open area in the center. This open area is a great place to put a pan full of beer or water, you can use one of those disposable foil pans. The fluid filled pan will do two things, help with the moisture and catch grease from the bird. I like to place the bird on a roasting rack atop the grids, and clip the wing tips and tuck up the end of the drums, finally placing a tinfoil shield over the breast for the first hour of roasting. To be honest I use whatever wood I have on hand, generally mesquite, but starting with hickory or oak and finishing with apple or cherry would be the way to go. Maintain around 250-300 and use a meat thermometer stuck into the meaty part of the thigh to see how Ol' Tom is progressing. Remember for poultry you want the temp at 165. Generally I pull the bird when it his 160 and allow it to rest and cruise up toe 165 – remember you can always cut it up and microwave if the meat still looks a bit on the rare side.

Don't Poison Anyone

As with an food it is important to observe all safety guidelines – ignore these and you may well wind up killing guests instead of entertaining them. Go HERE  for some sound advice. I don't normally trust our government, but as they didn't name the item “War on Turkey” I figured it was probably going to be successful advice. 

Turkey Roast

Looks as though we may be doing the two Thanksgiving Day thing again this year. I don't mind a bit as it allows me to spend a lot of quality time with the grill, as I smoke my birds – the though part is keeping them lit. I've been doing turkey or boneless turkey roasts on the grill as long as I can remember. I know some who swear by deep frying their bird, but I have had it done that way and found it was nothing to write home about, not to mention the vast quantities of very expensive peanut oil and the chance of it all ending a spectacular fire. Okay, the fire would be pretty cool -- sometime I'll have to relate the story of the giant fireball I created (unwittingly) on my old Weber, that was nuts.

The boneless turkey roast is a snap, I prefer the ones with both dark and light meat, all wrapped in a net bag ready for the grill. I toss the gravy packet that comes with it out as I don't know what is in the pouch and I don't want to know. The roast is small, so I usually do several, one with a rub, one injected with olive oil, garlic, and Italian seasoning, and one just salt and pepper. I use indirect heat, with a pan of beer under the roasts to provide steam and additional flavor and I use hickory through the whole process, but they'd be nice if one were to finish with apple. I do come through with a quick mop of apple cider vinegar, brown sugar, and crushed red pepper. About half way through the cooking process. They cook fairly quickly, even with the grill kept around 250 so I use a meat thermometer and when I find the temp at 165, I pull the roasts cover with foil and let them rest. The temp should cruise up to about 170, the safe temperature for poultry. Don't be too ashamed to use the microwave if the bird still looks a bit pink, better your guest fall asleep in front of the TV than spending the rest of the day hugging the toilet.

Consider the roasts if you don't feel like dealing with a carcass, don't want your bird to wind up looking like a prop from a slasher movie after your attempt at carving. While the roasts don't have the romance of a Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving, they make up for it in less waste as they are all meat and they cook a lot quicker than a whole bird.

 

Talking the Talk, Smelling the Smoke

I never mind stopping for a bit to chat about barbecue – I will probably learn something new and the wondrous smell of smoking meat is free. I can't get enough of that beautiful smoke and can't learn enough about the art and science of smoking meat until tasty moist and tender. Speaking to the owner of “Hog Heaven” was no exception.

While sampling the smokey goodness coming from his smoker, I learned the fellow was from Missouri and we bemoaned having to pay for hardwood, especially because we both had haunted woods full of beautiful oak, maple, and hickory through our childhoods. Here in Arizona mesquite is easy to come by, but gives the food a little bitter flavor, part of it's appeal, though it doesn't work well with everything. Starting with hickory and finishing with some fruit wood was the plan he used and I can vouch for it being an excellent technique. Oak is good and can be found in Arizona, hickory not so much and I have yet to see any apple trees – lots of citrus, but I have heard the smoke from citrus wood is a trifle toxic, so I avoid it.

The proprietor of Hog Heaven had things to do so I left him to it, thinking about picking up a pork butt and smoking it over some hickory chunks and finishing it with some apple wood chunks I had at home. I'd also like to try tossing corncobs on like they do in South Dakota where corncobs are easy to come by giving steaks a nice finish from what I understand. I do use mesquite, mainly because my son-in-law has a mesquite tree and I get it for free, but I would still finish with hickory (purchase din chunks from a big box store. The trouble with Big Box Stores as a source for wood as they are all headquartered in places that have seasons, unlike Arizona where there's no excuse fro not barbecuing or grilling every day. The inflatable Santas and Christmas trees go up and the grilling supplies all but disappear – this happens around the end of September, but seems to get earlier every year.

Anyway, use what you have on hand, but don't be afraid to try something a little different if the opportunity presents itself. The final problem I had with finding wood for my smoker was trying to convince the flight attendant that my Shagbark Hickory stump was carry on...

I Can Beer Can

 

You won't see Beer Can Chicken on the menu at the Ritz-Carlton, there won;t be a category for it at the big barbecue cook-off, but this unassuming dish is as tasty as it is easy to make. There are two main ingredients, a chicken and a beer can doesn't get much simpler than that. It'd be handy to have a grill, doesn't even need to be a 500LBS cast-iron smoker in the shape of a pig, any grill with a cover will do as long as the chicken will fit upright when the cover is on.

The first step is chicken prep and it can be as involved as you like. I found a technique on line where you sprinkle the skin of the chicken very liberally with salt, wrap the rascal and place it back in the fridge for two hours. Now, I hope I don;t have to tell you to keep everything sparkling clean, including your mitts when you are working with poultry, if you don't realize this by now you've probably already killed someone (or they wish they'd've died). Don't go fussing about all that salt either because we're going to rinse it off really good later. The salt helps the skin retain water while breaking down proteins and helps for a crispier skin later in the process. A lot of chicken I've made and had tastes like it was wrapped in a rubber wetsuit.

Moisture is the key and anything done to help introduce it to the chicken is welcome. The can, besides acting as a cooking implement, is filled halfway with beer – what happens to the rest of the beer is up to you, but the beer will help flavor and moisten. To help the breast meat along, as it has a habit of coming out dry, is to gently work the skin away from the breasts and insert a couple slices of bacon, or if a porkophobe, a couple pats of butter. I will also make the bird a designer jacket to go over the breast in the initial stages of the cooking to allow the dark meat to get a head start.

You can introduce any flavors you like at this point. Shove herbage up into the cavity (remember to leave room for the can), give it a rub with your favorite BBQ rub or snake some herbs up in between the skin and the breast meat. Don't forget you can inject as well to bring both flavor and moisture into t he meat itself. I'm going to leave this bird alone, relying on the beer in the can to help to flavor and moisturize. If a first timer it might be wise to refrain from introducing too many variables at one time, just to see how it goes.

Time to set up the old grill. We'll be wanting indirect heat on this one, that is to say coals on either side of the chicken, but none directly under it. The can will be providing moisture, if you didn't drink all the beer, but it wouldn't hurt to put a drip pan under the bird to catch any escaping juices. Once the coals are hot and distributed, shove the can where the sun don't shine (on the chicken, that is) and use it as a stand with the legs to help stabilize the fowl, sort of a meaty tripod. Oh did I mention putting a bit of spray oil on the can to help with separation later? You'll really want to do that.

And now we slap the cover on and bid a fond farewell to our bird, trying to keep the heat between 250 and 300. I'll want the internal temperature of the thigh meat to be approaching 170 before I pull the bird, removing the can and covering the chicken with some foil to rest and cruise up to 170.

Now you're a real BBQ hero, the trickiest part of the whole operation is carving the bird and not leaving it look like a prop in a slasher movie. After adding this to your repertoire you can set your sights on the Thanksgiving Day Gobbler (not Cousin Frank, but the turkey) and introduce the big bird to your grill. .   

Mr. Chicken sporting the latest in foil fashion wear, which also help shield the breast meat and keeps the NSA from reading the chicken's mind. 

Taking the bird's temperature insures you won't kill any of your party guests with underdone poultry.