One-Pot Meals

A traditional low-country boil is a whole lot easier in a kitchen than on a deck with all that huge pot, outdoor burner, and propane tank business. Usually, the corn on the cob and the new potatoes are cooked right in the boil with everything else, but in a regular kitchen stockpot, we think it’s easier to cook the vegetables separately. We like the extra depth that a little bottled smoke adds to the shrimp boil.

There’s nothing wrong with pot roast, but the beef chuck shoulder roast needs a break from the potatoes and carrots and soupy broth treatment. Beef chuck makes excellent barbecue, full of rich beefy flavor. Like brisket, its connective tissue requires slow barbecue-style cooking. Chuck isn’t as long and stringy as brisket, but it can pretty much do anything a brisket can do and in less time. Also, a good chuck roast on special is an easier find than a brisket with a good fat cap. It’s about choices and good substitutes, and a chuck roast is one of them.

Hobo Crock 212 Brisket combines outdoor cheater dry rub and indoor hobo crock cooking with traditional mother-in-law brisket ingredients. The slow cooker creates the moist low-heat environment critical for good brisket and, since it takes a while to cook, you can leave it for hours. Leftover brisket is extra good for any of the Two-Timing Cheater variations (see pages 176 to 187).

Chipotle peppers add deep, smoked heat to this cheater brisket, which is otherwise cooked with all the regular barbecue elements. The leftovers are outstanding, so cook the big one and stock up for your upcoming Mexican fiesta featuring brisket chili, nachos, tacos, or burritos.

Korean kalbi is soy-marinated chuck flanken-style beef ribs grilled quickly and eaten with rice wrapped in crisp lettuce leaves. Our cheater kalbi uses the same soy-based marinade, but is cooked as a stew in the slow cooker. We usually swap the traditional flanken ribs for regular beef short ribs, which have larger bones that fall right out, leaving a nice pile of shredded meat. Short ribs are also easier for us to find. Set the table taco-style with iceberg lettuce cups for shells. Along with the meat, stuff the lettuce shells with Korean kimchi, white rice, green onions, and hot peppers. We throw in some fresh cilantro, too.

For years R. B. could not stop falling for the latest food magazine pitch for perfectly smoked, tender beef brisket. Finally, after a twelve-hour ordeal of tending the fire and at least six episodes of wrapping and unwrapping and mopping, Min led him from the patio and into the kitchen and showed him around. Since that breakthrough, brisket is what’s for dinner much more often. Whether you’re cooking indoors or out, the brisket’s best friend is heavy-duty aluminum foil to trap moist heat and smoke. R. B.’s reformed oven method for brisket is to wrap it once, tuck it in a warm oven, and go to bed. Who needs melatonin with the aroma of a brisket wafting through the house in the wee hours? Be prepared to wake up ravenous.

Let’s face it, everything tastes better with bacon, especially chicken breasts in need of a little fat and flavor. You know by now that the boneless, skinless chicken breast is not our top choice, but with a little rub, some smoke, and slow, moist cooking these breasts are okay and ready for casseroles, soups, and sandwiches. Skip the bacon if you’re on a fat-restricted diet.

The best part of Thanksgiving weekend might be a postholiday turkey sandwich when the guests are gone and you’re hanging out at home. When you don’t get that sandwich (because somebody wrapped up all the turkey to go home with somebody’s cousin), it can haunt you. No need to wait another year and another holiday. No need to cook a whole turkey, either. Like Hobo Crock Whole Smoked Chicken (page 90), a whole turkey breast does really well wrapped in foil and cooked in a slow cooker. You can even pull off a handsome skin with melted butter mixed with bottled smoke. If you buy a frozen breast, remember to give it a few days in the fridge to thaw completely before cooking.

Adobo is a Filipino obsession like barbecue is in America. The key is slow cooking in a mix of Filipino sugarcane vinegar and soy sauce. We think it has a sour-salty vibe similar to American vinegar barbecue sauces. Filipino sugarcane vinegar is soft and mild, more like Asian rice vinegar than cider vinegar. We stumbled on it at the international market along with Filipino soy sauce. If it’s in Nashville, it’s probably available in most cities in the United States. Not to be confused with Mexican canned chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, this Filipino adobo is a simmering pot of chicken in a tart, salty bath of what probably looks like too much vinegar and soy sauce. You can crisp the chicken on the grill or under the broiler after cooking. Sometimes we use the slow cooker for a pile of soft pulled adobo chicken. Leave out the water and cook the chicken on high for three to four hours. You can also cook beef short ribs or pork butt in the same mix. Whatever the meat or the method, serve it with plenty of white rice.

The hobo crock method was inspired by R. B.’s Boy Scout campout foil hobo-pack cuisine. Cheater hobo crock meats take advantage of this simple method for infusing foods with flavor and trapping moisture. Meats are tightly wrapped with seasonings and bottled smoke and placed in a slow cooker. The cool thing is that you won’t open the pack to find a pile of soggy skin and bones, as you might expect. The chicken maintains its structure, browns on top, and can be carved and sliced. This method will also successfully tame a beef brisket (page 113). Indoors or out, the only issue we have is over the grade of aluminum foil for wrapping the bird. R. B. requires heavy duty—one of those barbecue guy things. Min uses the thinner, everyday stuff because she knows that the juices are going to leak into the crock anyway, so who cares whether the cheaper foil springs a hole or two.

If you’re feeling that cooking has gotten way too complicated, try smoking a big chubb bologna in the slow cooker. It might just be one of the best tasting, most underwrought meats around. Believe it or not, smoked chubb bologna has become a menu regular in barbecue joints. This fun, affordable, already-cooked sausage quickly picks up smoke in an outdoor smoker or in a slow cooker. Think of the possibilities. Give the brats a break and boost tailgating team spirit with a load of bologna patty melts oozing with cheese and grilled onions. Lighten the mood with cracker chubb mini bologna burgers. How about teriyaki-glazed bologna with pineapple chunks in lettuce cups?

Long ago R. B. learned that grilling hot dogs and sausages isn’t as low-stress or as simple as it sounds. He’s still recovering from childhood campfire hot dogs that turned out more like bike inner tubes. R. B.’s current recovery program requires him to just let it all go. He tries not to be an annoying guest at casual barbecues or hover nervously near the grill when a distracted host leaves his post. Dogs on a grill need to be watched or they’ll quickly run away from you. When done right they get a light char and a bite that pops. Since game day is supposed to be about the game and the guests, get the dogs done before the national anthem. The key to dogs lasting well into the postgame commentary is the slow cooker. Before the game, grill, broil, or pan-char your sausages—brats, knacks, red hots, kielbasa, smoked turkey and chicken sausages, even those basil–sun-dried tomato–mango brands. Keep them warm in spiked hot dog “water.” Use the recipe as a guideline. A large slow cooker can easily keep 5 or 6 pounds of dogs in a hot steamy bath. Just use enough liquid to keep the dogs partially but comfortably submerged, adding more water if needed. Once heated through, the links will be ready as long as the cooker is plugged in. And if the slow cooker is tied up with your famous chili or nacho dip, put a heavy-bottomed covered pot over low heat on the stove. Otherwise, grab an extension cord, set the slow cooker on the coffee table, and you won’t even have to leave your seat.

Even a cook-while-you-sleep cheater pork butt may require too much time, skill, and kitchen equipment for some. Here’s instant gratification for those taking the scenic route to adulthood, busily mastering skill sets beyond the kitchen. College Boy Helper takes the most direct route to a hot, satisfying barbecued pork sandwich. Dude, it’s awesome.

Spareribs in the slow cooker? We first tried this method simply to rule it out for Cheater BBQ. We figured the ribs would come out gray and soggy, more like a slow cooker stew. We couldn’t have been happier in our disappointment when the ribs turned out better than okay. In fact, they were handsomely browned and crusted with tender, not soggy, meat. A big 6- to 7-quart slow cooker will do two good-size racks of spare or St. Louis ribs, and you can be multitasking elsewhere. (If you actually like using the oven, you can finish them with a sauce in the oven or under the broiler.)

Min’s uncle Mike and aunt Mary of Belen, New Mexico, spend their free time on the banks of the Rio Grande in the little resort town of Truth or Consequences. The town’s name change from Hot Springs occurred back in 1950 when Ralph Edwards, host of the popular radio show, announced that, to celebrate the show’s tenth anniversary, Truth or Consequences would broadcast from the first town to rename itself after the show. Forward-thinking civic leaders jumped at the opportunity for free publicity and to instantly differentiate their town from the hundreds of other Hot Springs across the country. The name change vote passed and Ralph Edwards became a town hero. Now, everybody just calls it T or C for short. After a day relaxing with high-speed toys on the nearby Elephant Butte Reservoir, Mike and Mary regularly welcome a brood of sunburnt kids and friends with a patio barbecue. Elaborate cooking is the last thing on anyone’s mind. This throw-it-all-in-the-slow-cooker chili pork barbecue (or try it with beef chuck roast) lets Mary have as much fun as the rest of the gang. Serve the meat with warm tortillas, guacamole, shredded lettuce, onions, and plenty of Pecos Pintos (page 147).

In between cruises when you’re pining for the late-night lido deck scene, there’s no better way to escape the quotidian than an island-themed luau. Lining the slow cooker with banana leaves and filling it with seasoned pork can really generate a breezy mood. The cheater way is to put a whole banana, skin and all, on top of our Luau Pork during cooking. It gets the party point across just as well. To carry the theme, think side dishes with tropical fruits, macadamia nuts, coconut, and rice.

Cutlets or chops of veal are pressed with oregano, garlic, and bread crumbs, then sautéed or grilled and proffered throughout the island as the fish-phobic’s Sicilian supper. One is likely to be presented with a fibrous little cutlet that makes one long to be supping somewhere else. This version, though, inspired by Osteria ai Cascinari in Palermo, begs the rubbing of a good, thick chop with a paste of herbs before giving it a quilt of crumbs mixed with pecorino and sesame seeds and, finally, a brief sauté and a splash of white wine. It makes for a fine dish, especially when accompanied with a bit of pesto di pistacchi e olive (page 193).

A rather sad and barren bit of sand in a Mediterranean archipelago 17 kilometers off the coast of Trapani and 120 kilometers from the brow of North Africa, the island of Favignana is the last of the tonnare—tuna fishing ports—in Sicilia. And it is Gioachino Cataldo who is il rais—“the king,” in Arab dialect—of the rite of la mattanza— the ritual slaughtering of migrating tuna practiced first by the Phoenicians and later by the Saracens. La mattanza remains the most powerful spiritual ceremony in the life of the islanders, as it has for a thousand years. And from then until now, its writs are these. Fifteen huge wooden, black-varnished, motorless, sail-less boats are tugged out into the formation of a great quadrangle around the muciara—the boat of il rais that sits at the square’s center. Ten kilometers of net are laid in the form of a pouch into which the tuna swim. The great fish migrate from the Atlantic through the Straits of Gibralter to spawn, the Mediterranean being warmer and saltier and, hence, a kinder ambience for reproduction. As the pouch—called the camera della morte, the death chamber—becomes full, il rais gives the command to his fifty-seven soldiers to lift the net. The men bear up the nets by hand, hoisting them and the tuna up to a height at which the fish can be speared and hauled up into the bellies of the boats. The rite remains Arab to its core. Arab are the songs that the tonnaroti—those fishermen who hunt only tuna—sing as they wait for the nets to fill, as are the incantations they chant as they are heaving up the fish and, finally, Arab are the screams the tonnaroti scream as they kill them. We saw them take two hundred tuna in two hours—the fish averaging about seventy kilograms. Those the tonnaroti did not keep for themselves were ferried to Marsala for processing. A black-bearded colossus is Gioachino, his face crinkled by the Mediterranean sun, his enormous hands scraggy as an unsharp blade, of a family who, for twelve generations, has birthed men chosen by the Favignanesi to be il rais. The islanders bequeath the post on merit. The credentials, said Favignana’s mayor, are: courage, skill, strength, dignity, and honor. And it is the king himself who determines the duration of his reign. Gioachino told us he would remain il rais “finchè le mie forze mi sosterranno”—“while my forces remain uninjured.” In these last ninety-eight years, Gioachino is only the eighth rais of Favignana. This is the simple way he cooked tuna for us, the way he thinks it best. He always uses flesh from the female fish—hence, tunnina—for its more delicate savor, he told us. Il rais harvested the capers for the fish in his garden while we sipped at cold moscato.

Glorious Selinunte was raised up seven centuries before Christ and named by the Greeks after the wild, celerylike plant selinon, which then blanketed its riparian hills that fell to the sea. For us, the rests at Selinunte, more than any of the other Greek evidences, are the masterworks transcendent on Sicilia. There one can enter the great temples rather than stay, dutifully, achingly, behind a cordon. Hence, the temples there seem more familiar. One can remain, for a while, in the company of the old gods, to see the light change or to watch four chestnut horses, a newly foaled colt, and a fat, fluffy-haired donkey roaming over the fallow of broken marbles as though it were some ordinary meadow. One can eavesdrop on the discourse between two white doves until the silence comes—piano, pianissimo, save only the whisperings of wings. Some of the people we met who live in Castelvetrano, near Selinunte, spoke to us of a soup they remembered their grandmothers and aunts having made from a selinon-like plant that grew along the coast. They remembered it being smooth and cold, with a strong, almost bitter sort of celery flavor. Alas, neither selinon nor other wild grasses of its ilk are to be found. But prompted by our friends’ taste memories and our own sweet keepsakes of Selinunte, we fashioned this satiny, soothing soup to be offered on the warmest of days.

A dish a hunter might prepare for his family even if his sack holds only a few birds, the quail are pan-roasted, pasta is added to its good liquors, the whole roasted in the oven, and carried to table as a piatto unico—one-dish meal.