Smoke

St. Louis–style ribs do very well in KCBS contests, and because they’re larger they tend to be a little bit easier to handle. A lot of folks favor them because they’re surrounded by more fat to flavor the meat, and when they’re cooked right, they’re tender and bursting with real hog flavor. I cook four racks of ribs at competition, so that’s what these recipes call for; that should serve a nice-size group of people, depending on appetites and on what else is on your menu. If you’re going to cook fewer ribs, you’ll still need to make the rub, marinade, and glaze. You can either cut those recipes in half or you can save the leftovers and use them on other meats (the rib rub, for example, would be great on a pork loin roast), and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what you can do with leftover glaze (I like mine on burgers, though). Regardless of how many racks you’re cooking, the cook time stays the same.

Sometimes when you’re barbecuing, you want to get a little fancy—maybe to impress the neighbors or something like that. Hell, I’ve been there, believe me. And I can tell you from experience that stuffed tenderloin will get you that “wow” factor.

Pork roast is such a crowd-pleaser, so next time you make one, why not try it on the smoker? It’s incredibly easy and it doesn’t take much time. It also doesn’t make your kitchen hot and crowded, either. It’s always better, to me, to get the meat cooking outside—it frees up a lot of space for preparing the rest of the meal.

I love burgers made from freshly ground meat. If you have access to your own meat grinder, grind up a fresh boneless Boston butt with the onions. If you don’t, don’t worry about it. These burgers aren’t quite as over the top as my Whistler Burger (page 98), but they’re flavorful as hell and a really nice change if you feel like eating something other than beef.

The world of sausages is large and consists of any kind of meat mixture (or fish, or even vegetable if you want to get loose about it) that is stuffed into a casing, and they’ve existed as a way to preserve food—let’s be honest, it started with meat—since antiquity. Sausages encompass everything from American hot dogs to French saucisson, to German bratwurst, to Italian salami, to Portuguese chorizo, to an entire system of traditional British sausages. In southern Georgia, the sausage of choice is smoked sausage. I’m talking about Polish kielbasa-style sausage that’s made with coarsely ground pork, seasoned heavily with sage, garlic, and black pepper, and then is smoked to perfection so that it comes in big, fat, brown-red rings. It’s salty and lusty and really good with a cold pilsner. It’s also very, very versatile. Here are my two favorite ways of enjoying smoked sausage.

No, this dish was not inspired by my father, Jack. It gets its name from the pepper jack cheese that you use to stuff the bologna. Many Memphis in May competition teams cook this dish at the annual World Championship and snack on it during the weeklong celebration.

A whole hog can weigh anywhere from 75 to 180 pounds. I like to cook the big ones the best, because they’ve got the most meat on them and can serve a huge crowd. Now, some ’cue cookers may tell you that smaller is better because it’s easier to handle, but I don’t truck with that. The quality of the meat on a smaller hog is no different than a bigger one, and if you’re going to go to all the trouble to smoke a whole hog, then you might as well get as much as you can for your efforts. For more than eight years now, I’ve been buying my hogs from Elmer Yoder at his business, Yoder’s Butcher Block. He is located in a rural Mennonite community about fourteen miles from my home in Unadilla, Georgia. I get my hogs from Yoder’s not just because he’s close to where I live but also because the quality of Yoder’s meat is very high. His heritage demands it. I know I can count on Yoder to supply me hormone-and drug-free meats that are as naturally raised as possible. Raising animals this way is a skill that has been overshadowed by the large meat processors, but Yoder has found his niche here, processing deer and hogs and everything in between, and he has dedicated customers. The quality of his pork is top-tier. End of day, he helps me be a champion. Now, in other parts of the country it is hard to find whole hogs. My best suggestion is to order one from a good, reputable butcher. A few things to know when ordering a hog: First, determine what size will fit in your smoker. Measure the inside length of your cooking chamber. It needs to be at least four feet to be able to cook a 50- to 80-pound hog, and five to six feet if you want to cook a bigger one (up to about 200 pounds). Tell the butcher that you want the hog to be “round,” which means split and gutted but not butterflied (you’ll do that yourself and then you can be sure to lay it out like you want it). Getting a hog this way saves a whole lot of time and energy. I like the head left on but the feet removed for presentation purposes, but that part is up to you. If you want to cook a whole hog, this recipe will take you through every step. But if you really want to know how to cook whole hog like a professional, I suggest that you attend my barbecue class (or a good local barbecue class) to familiarize yourself with the process. Cooking a whole hog is not for the faint of heart, and it sure ain’t for first-timers.

Cooking a whole chicken in the smoker is probably the easiest thing you can master. I say that a whole hog (see page 53) isn’t for beginners, but a whole chicken sure is. Whenever you cook anything in a smoker, you risk drying it out. My chickens are never dry because the pan of apple juice underneath keeps the meat tender and circulates moisture and sweetness throughout the smoker. So the chicken is smoky in flavor and melt-in-your-mouth in texture. If you are a real “skin person,” meaning the skin is your favorite part of the bird, you should know that the skin on this chicken becomes soft enough to bite through and is delicious (that said, if you prefer crunchy skin, see my fried chicken recipe on page 45). If you like to make pulled chicken sandwiches, this is the recipe you need to start with. Simply cook this chicken and then, wearing food-handling gloves, pull the chicken meat from the bones and place it on a platter. Let your guests assemble their own sandwiches with buns and your favorite garnishes, such as Basic Hickory Sauce (page 22), Mama’s Slaw (page 119), and pickles.

Coca-Cola was born in Atlanta in 1886, when pharmacist Dr. John Stith Pemberton took his new creation to Jacobs’ Pharmacy—where minutes after it was first sampled, it became a sensation. I love the stuff, in no small part because it’s a fantastic global brand from Georgia . . . just like me. What a lot of people outside of the South don’t realize is that Coke can be more than a “delicious and refreshing” drink; it’s a great ingredient to use in a marinade because it’s sweet and because the carbonation can be useful in tenderizing meat. It needs some balance, though, which is what the bacon does here: it adds a salty flavor and a crisp texture to the chicken. This dish is great for afternoon barbecues when you’re chilling by the pool. Serve it with your favorite potato salad (see page 116).

Nowadays chicken is cut into eight pieces: two legs, two thighs, two breasts, and two wings. Traditionally, though, when I was growing up, butchers used an eleven-piece cut: two legs, two thighs, two breasts, two wings, the neck, the back, and the wishbone. I created this recipe with the old-style cuts in mind because I like the way it gives you more pieces to enjoy and because it’s an homage to an old-fashioned way of doing things. It’s a recipe that relies on the flavors of smoke, of course, mingled with brown sugar, which caramelizes the skin. It’s a wonderful take on classic saucy-style so-called barbecue chicken. The easiest way to do this is to ask your butcher to cut up a whole chicken into eleven pieces. Then you’re done. However, if you’d like to try it yourself, I’ve included instructions opposite.

To me, chicken wings are a delicacy. That’s not because they’re rare—believe me when I tell you that I eat them often—but because they’re probably my favorite part of the yard bird. Wings are unique because you get two experiences in one: a drumette and what I call the “flat.” That’s two handles on one piece of meat for you to hold on to and enjoy. Wings also take very little time to prepare and cook. All you have to know is that before you cook them you have to cut off the tip, which is attached to the outer flat part of the joint. Using kitchen shears is an easy way to just lop it off—or use a sharp knife—and if you don’t feel like throwing them away, put the tips in your freezer for the next time someone’s making stock or soup.

Chances are, you probably have bacon in your fridge right now. And if you’re like me, you love it. Making bacon at home is not rocket science; people make a big deal about it because it takes some time and a little planning, but it is so worth it. The first step is curing pork belly with salt, sugar, maple syrup, and pink salt, which contains sodium nitrite. The main purposes of the cure are to prevent any bacterial growth on the meat and draw out some water. To store, tightly wrap in plastic and keep in the fridge for up to two weeks. If for some crazy reason you don’t eat it all in a week, you can cut it into pieces, label and date it, and freeze for up to three months. Bacon is best smoked, but if you don’t have a smoker at home, you can roast the pork belly in the oven as directed in the recipe. When bacon is called for in recipes throughout this book, it is uncooked.

A full slab of beef short ribs usually contains 3 to 4 bones and is typically 8 to 10 inches square. The thickness will vary depending on the butcher but ranges from 2 to 5 inches. There are several ways beef ribs are cut and presented to the consumer besides the full slab. The ribs can be individually cut with a size similar to a pork country-style rib, cross-cut across the bones about 1/2 inch thick, or cut into boneless steaks. Beef ribs are less common to my barbecue region than pork ribs. I always look forward to working with cuts of meat that aren’t on the Big Bob Gibson menu. This recipe is one I created while working for the Kingsford charcoal company in 2007. I love the intense beefy flavor of the seasoned juices that result from this preparation; the juices can be drizzled back over the beef ribs or used to flavor a side dish such as mashed potatoes.

Because of their varying sizes and meat types, cook times on country-style ribs are a little difficult to pinpoint. True country-style ribs are very thick and can take up to an extra hour of cook time compared to the ones labeled “shoulder-cut country-style ribs.” If your ribs have a large cross-section of loin meat (light pink color), your cook time should be less or the lean loin meat will dry out. Your best gauge of doneness is a simple squeeze with your fingertips. If the meat feels rubbery, it needs more cooking. The meat from a perfectly cooked rib can be easily pinched from the bone. Over the years I have found that country-style ribs are an extremely versatile cut. They can be grilled hot or barbecued low and slow, and they partner well with dry rubs or marinades, sweet or savory. This recipe utilizes both a dry rub and a sweet sauce to highlight the flavor of the tender meat achieved by low-heat indirect cooking. One more word of advice: Don’t be bashful when applying the sauce. Slop it on!

Because of the slab size and the large bones, beef back ribs are sometimes referred to as “dinosaur ribs.” Back ribs are one of the least expensive cuts of beef. They are prized in the South as comfort food, though they are rarely seen in other parts of the country. If beef ribs are grilled hot and fast they will toughen up and require a good set of choppers to gnaw them off the bone. Braising is the most popular method to tenderize beef ribs. I cook my beef back ribs at a low temperature in a small amount of liquid for a long period of time. This cooking method produces very tender and juicy results, but without the crusty exterior of a grilled rib. While they can be browned on the stovetop over high heat, I brown the ribs in the outdoor cooker to heighten the barbecue flavor. This method approximates the effect of braising on the grill.

In 2001, I made my first national television appearance on Food Network’s Cooking Live with Sara Moulton. I received the invitation after doing a morning radio show with Sara at the Memphis in May World Championship Barbecue Cooking Contest. Her only stipulation was that my recipes needed to be cooked in an indoor oven. I have always maintained that any recipe written for the kitchen can be duplicated outdoors with more flavor; here my challenge was to prove the opposite holds true as well. I developed a four-stage rib recipe that layers flavors to make up for the extra punch you can only get from cooking with burning coals. It was pretty successful, but changing the recipe back to the outdoor cooker gives these ribs the best of both worlds.

When a full-size slab of spare ribs is trimmed into a St. Louis–cut spare rib, you are left with rib tips. They are found on the lower portion of the spare ribs close to the pork belly. These cut-away portions of spare ribs have small pieces of cartilage where you would expect to find bones. Rib tips are usually six inches long and one inch thick. These long strips are considered an economy cut but are surprisingly meaty. Sometimes it seems that the best-loved barbecue specialties came into being as a way to use discarded cuts of meat, prepared with common, on-hand ingredients that are “left over.” This recipe was inspired by the many hours I have stood looking into the cupboard wondering what I could make to eat. Most everyone has a cabinet full of unused spices and a refrigerator stocked with half-empty jelly jars. Fire up that old weathered bag of charcoal and enjoy!