Pork Rib Technique

I've been trying different techniques for grilling/smoking pork ribs and finally hit on something I really liked.

Since first making my Hickory Maple sauce, I haven't tried anything as good. I do have some recipes not yet tried, but the family and I like this one so much we have no incentive to change. But sauce does not make the dish alone. It's really just the finishing touch.

For some time I've used one method or another of cooking the ribs before they hit the grill, including boiling and baking. There are two advantages to pre-cooking. I think you can get a better result in the end, and it saves time, because you're cooking them while the coals are heating. Yesterday, I steamed them, and that got me the perfect result I've been seeking.

I filled the bottom of a big pot with water, dropped in a vegetable steamer, covered it and set the flame to high. I went outside and lit the charcoal. Back inside, I covered the ribs liberally with a dry rub. It was the last of a rub I had been using for some months, and I'm embarrassed to say I don't know where I got the recipe -- I'll hunt through my cookbooks for it, because it was pretty good.

By then the water was boiling. I was using a full rack of spare ribs which I had cut in half. They fit in the pot with one somewhat on top of the other. The steam cooked off lots of excess fat, and made the dry rub into a paste that stuck to the ribs.

When the coals were ready -- in about 30 minutes -- I removed the ribs from the pot and let them drip off. I spread the coals for direct grilling. I skipped my usual step of adding soaked hickory chips to the coals, but as the sauce includes Liquid Smoke, I knew I'd get some hickory flavor.

I put the ribs on the grill, covered it and closed the top vents halfway to retain smoke. After 10 minutes, I turned the ribs and mopped on some white vinegar with hot pepper flakes. Returning the cover, I now opened the vents. In 10 more minutes, I turned the ribs and repeated. The ribs were nicely blackened but not overly charred. Five minutes later, I brushed on some sauce, turned the ribs and brushed sauce on the other side. Just a minute or two on each side with the cover off produced a nice glaze.

I put the ribs on a cutting board and returned to the kitchen. With a carving knife (and I plan to buy a cleaver), I trimmed the rack to produce St. Louis cut ribs. If you order spare ribs in a restaurant, chances are that's how you'll get them. You do this by removing the unwieldy section at the top of the rack that is difficult to slice through as well as the tip of the rack, so that you're left with ribs of a fairly consistent length.

I'm sure there is correct terminology for this, but what it left me with was a nearly uncuttable long bone that had run perpendicular to the ribs and a number of chunks that I separated into tasty morsels, along with the small ribs at the end of the rack.

Arranging all the pieces on a platter, I brushed some more sauce on top. They were the best ribs we've ever had. Moist inside and crispy on the top and bottom. The St. Louis portion of the rack was also fairly lean.

I would also say that meat quality makes a difference. I find the ribs purchased at Whole Foods significantly better in taste and texture than the ones I used to buy at Sam's Club. But they are perhaps twice as expensive. For now, we've decided we'd rather have naturally raised meat, and if it means having ribs a bit less often, so be it.

The Joy of Tri-Tip

Tri-tip is a cut of beef from the bottom sirloin that was created in a supermarket in Santa Maria, California, in the late 1950s.

Now when I say "created," it's not as if the butchers there made meat where there had been none. Instead, they took a portion of the sirloin that was not a standard cut and had been used for ground meat and tried it out. Turned out to be very tasty and tender.

It's remarkably easy to prepare on the grill, and after trying several methods, I've found the "classic" Santa Maria preparation to be my favorite.

The trickiest part of tri-tip is finding it if you're not on the west coast. The only place I have been able to purchase it, either in the East or in Colorado, is Sam's Club (I'm not a Costco member, so don't know if they might have it. No supermarket or butcher shop I've been into has it, nor have most heard of it.

There are two ways to buy tri-tip: The full roast, which is around two pounds, or cut into long strips, which I would guess are good for making into kebabs. But I only buy the full roast.

My first tri-tip experience was at a county fair in Bozeman, Montana. The food court there had a stand called "Tri-tip Kitchen." They weren't very busy. I went there and told them I had always wanted to try it, so I had a sandwich and it was really good. The proprietors were from California and said they noticed that not many people at the fair knew what tri-tip was. Unfortunately, the word "tri-tip" looks somewhat like "tripe" on first reading. Perhaps by now they've changed their sign to read "Steak Sandwiches."

I think the following recipe was taken whole from one of the many good web pages on tri-tip, but I can't remember which, so apologize to the author.


Charcoal Grilled Tri-Tip with Santa Maria Rub recipe

Rub:
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon dried parsley
1-1/2 teaspoons black pepper
1-1/2 teaspoons garlic powder or granules

Apply a thick coat of rub to the roast 30minutes to two hours before grilling.

Soak some hickory chips for 30 minutes. Arrange the coals for indirect heat. Place roast on the grill, drain chips and sprinkle on the coals and cover grill with vents open.

Grill meat for 30 minutes, turning after 15.

Check temperature -- 130 degrees is ideal.

Let the meat rest on a cutting board, tented with foil, for 10 minutes. Slice 1/4 inch thick, against the grain.

Fave Eats

Responding to a meme for my 5 favorite places to eat. It's dang hard to come up with just five, but let's see what happens...

Sammy's Romanian Steakhouse - New York
Much more than its name implies, this is a Jewish Experience. It's like going to a Bar Mitzvah in the Catskills. The menu includes most of the "K" foods -- kishke, kreplach, kasha varnishkes. But the steaks are amazing. Giant strip steaks with an indescribably delicious Romanian marinade. And to dip your bread? Not butter. Not olive oil. But schmaltz. Yes, liquefied chicken fat. Yum! Order Vodka and you'll be served a bottle of Absolut frozen in a block of ice, left at your table in a tub, just like champagne. Remember those old-fashioned seltzer bottles? There's one on your table. When you're done with the main course, your waitress will bring milk and Fox's U-Bet Chocolate Syrup. Those in the know will then mix their own egg creams (no egg, no cream, but it's nectar from heaven) to enjoy with a plate of rugulach. I forgot to mention the entertainment. Depending on the night, you might find a fellow who looks like Bobby Vinton singing and playing Jewish favorites and standards on a keyboard. The owner is the guy with the gold chains, a glass of wine in his hand and bawdy comments at the ready. Not to be missed! Leave your business card on the wall and buy a souvenir T-shirt.

Katz's Delicatessen - New York
One of the few authentic Jewish deli's left, this one is atypical. It is set up cafeteria style. You go to the counter, and a counterman makes your sandwich. Order your corned beef or pastrami on club bread for a great alternative to the ubiquitous rye. Enjoy the decor, which includes hanging salamis and a sign dating to W.W.II that urges you to "send a salami to your boy in the Army" (in New York, that rhymes). See my post from a 2005 visit.

Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles - Hollywood and other L.A. area locations
The name just about says it all. This combination works. Roscoe's is a specialized kind of soul food joint. You'll be greeted by a friendly security guard/mâitre d'. The menu is mostly various combinations of fried chicken and waffles. The chicken is wonderfully breaded and fried, available with or without gravy. The waffles are tender and fluffy. A side order of collard greens cuts through the heaviness of the gravy and syrup.

Billy Goat Tavern - Chicago
Many times, I've walked up Michigan Avenue just north of the Chicago River (one of my favorite spots in any city) and not noticed the sign for the Billy Goat. This time, my friend spotted it and we went down the stairs to a lower level on which cross streets run, to see what it was. Immediately on entering, I realized the import of our discovery. The Saturday Night sketch about a Greek burger joint - "Cheeborger, cheeborger . . . no fries, cheeps . . . no Pepsi, Coke." - was a take-off on the Billy Goat! It was a great cheeborger! I got a double, because the counterman refused to sell me a single. It is served on a piece of wax paper which you take to a fixin' station with onions, pickles, relish and condiments, and then carry to your table. Alert the historic preservation society; the Billy Goat must always stand!

Café du Monde - New Orleans
Enjoy fresh squeezed orange juice, that wonderful New Orleans chicory coffee, and beignets at this open air cafe near the waterfront. Beignets are incredibly wonderful, square, donut-like delicacies that are pummeled with powdered sugar. Most mornings, local street musicians will provide a jazz serenade.

OK, I can't stop at five...

Two Lights Lobster Shack - Cape Elizabeth, Maine
When visiting Maine between late April and early October, enjoy this classic seaside seafood experience. A beautiful, rocky setting just south of Portland. Lobsters, lobster rolls, great lobster stew, fried clams, shrimp or fish. Get a basket with fries, and cole slaw that has a hint of pineapple juice. Dine inside or out.

Arthur Bryant's - Kansas City
In a city known for its barbecue, this place ranks at the top. First finding national fame in Calvin Trillin's writings in the New Yorker, Bryant's has not been ruined by its celebrity. The key to its success is a uniquely flavored, grainy sauce. Get on line and be served whopping portions of ribs and fixin's on a metal tray. Enjoy your meal in decor that looks like a men's room, but is otherwise pleasant.

Yocco's - Allentown, PA.
There are few local/regional fast food joints of distinction left in America, and Yocco's is one. Their specialty is chili dogs. A standard "Yocco's" is a well-done dog in a steamed bun with mustard, chopped onions and homemade chili sauce. I recommend asking for pickles and (banana) peppers. Instead of fries, order fried potato pierogies -- sort of an Eastern European ravioli. Dig their logo which shows an angry hot dog wearing a crown eating...a hot dog.

Brennan's - New Orleans
In the best dining-out city in America, Brennan's has a special place in my heart. This is where I had the most amazing breakfast in my life, and I love breakfast! The specialty is poached eggs and omelets in many varieties, done to perfection. Have turtle soup as an opener and finish with Bananas Foster (this is where it was invented) made tableside. Make reservations, dress well, and plan to spend more than you ever thought breakfast could cost. Just do it.

Lawry's Prime Rib - Chicago, Las Vegas, L.A.
A relic of a bygone age (like the 40's!), with waitresses identified as "Miss Soandso," none of the first-name-phony-familiarity that's run rampant. With the exception of one fish dish, they serve prime rib and prime rib only. Choose from a selection of cuts, carved tableside from a Buck Rogers-ish chrome cart. Salads are served from a bowl that your waitress spins by hand as she drizzles Lawry's salad dressing (a spicy French type) into it. Sadly, they no longer bottle the dressing; you used to be able to take some home. Yes, this is the restaurant that invented Lawry's seasoned salt.

Buckhorn Exchange - Denver
A real man's eating establishment, but women are invited, too. The oldest restaurant in Denver at 100+. A kind view of the decor, for non-hunters, is that it's like a visit to the Museum of Natural History. In other words, taxidermy abounds in a setting of rich hardwood. The menu features elk, buffalo, rocky mountain oysters and other game. Preparation and presentation are superb, and the food tastes wonderful, not gamy at all. This is the kind of place to which a gentleman will want to wear a tweed jacket with suede elbow patches, though I don't think there's an official dress code.

Phillippe's the Original - Los Angeles
Phillipe's feels like a trip back to the 1940's, but the place is actually older. Founded in 1908, they claim to have created the French Dip sandwich in 1918 by inadvertantly dropping a roast beef sandwich in the gravy. The customer who accepted the soggy meal came back with friends for more, and a menu item was born. Also born was a verbal travesty as other places serve the gravy on the side and refer to their sandwiches as being served "with au jus." You want to upset the French, that's all you need. Me, I'll take the tasty soggy sandwich along with great sides -- cole slaw, served dry, medium or wet, macaroni salad with lots of pickle relish, an outstanding kosher dill pickle, beet-pickled eggs and pickled pig's feet. My friends also tried and liked the beef stew. And you can get dipped sandwiches with lamb or other meats instead of beef. Beer, wine and rich desserts also available. The 1940's feel probably comes from the uniforms of the (counter) servers and the signage.

AQ Chicken House - Springdale, AR.
Just a town away from Wal-Mart HQ is another stuck-in-time eatery. They make pan-fried chicken and I've never had any nearly as good. A chicken dinner with sides and ice tea ran about $14 including tip just a few years ago.

I knew I couldn't do just five!

The Joy of Charcoal

I am a reformed gas griller. Used to hate charcoal because of the mess and the taste of lighter fluid. Then my friend Tom brought me up to date. You don't need lighter fluid because you can start the coals using a special chimney and some newpaper. And it's not so messy, as Weber has evolved the kettle grill. But what really won me back was that every time I ate at Tom's the food tasted better. And while Tom is a great cook, I knew part of the difference was the charcoal. Sometimes I miss the "instant on" of gas grills, but when I taste the food from my Weber, there's no going back.

"Two Trees" Barbecue Sauce

This is an adaptation of a recipe I found...somewhere. I know the original used sugar as the sweetener, and it was my own sweetie who suggested substituting maple syrup.

I lived in New England for 18 years and since then always have pure maple syrup on hand.

Combined with the other lead flavor, hickory smoke (thus the "two trees"), this is a sauce our family can't let go of. Since I first made it, we haven't wanted to use any other recipe for barbecue sauce. This one works best with pork, but also goes well with chicken. I don't favor sweet sauces on beef, so haven't used it that way.


Eric's Hickory Maple Barbecue Saucerecipe

1 cup water
3/4 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup tomato paste
2/3 cup white vinegar
1/3 cup brown sugar
3 tbsp molasses
1 tsp Hickory liquid smoke
1 tsp salt
¼ tsp black pepper
¼ tsp onion powder
¼ tsp ground mustard
¼ tsp sweet paprika
¼ tsp garlic granules or powder
dash cayenne

Whisk ingredients together in a small saucepan. Bring to boil and simmer for 45 minutes or until thick. Makes 1¼ cups.