Ramblings

This section is a storage place for some of my blog entries that are longer essays, thoughts on barbecue and other tangential topics.

(07/14/08)

The Art of the BBQ Crawl

Sometimes barbecue is best enjoyed in one spot, relaxing over a few beers and just hanging out and not really worrying about the greater meaning of life or barbecue. Other times much of the fun comes from surveying two, three or even more barbecue joints in the same day or night, comparing and contrasting your impressions with those of your friends. As a veteran of many barbecue crawls, both for site research and for the pure social aspect, I've developed many strategies and tips that will help you get the most out of a barbecue crawl:

• The Personnel. Many believe "the more the merrier," but I think the best number for a crawl is four, the second best three and the third best two. Small numbers keeps the planning manageable and require at most one car. Since ribs are certain to be involved, a rack divides easily by four people (three apiece), three (four each) or two (six each). A half rack divides easily by three (two each) or two (three each). Six ribs per person is far too many for a serious crawl, and lugging leftovers complicates things. Three ribs apiece for four people is ideal. Four is also perfect for splitting sandwiches, one of my favorite appetizer techniques. Besides the right number of people, it's also important to have people you can count on to show up, people who have the stamina to last the entire crawl and people who are like minded on the philosophies of ordering, sharing, bill-splitting and tipping.

• The Mission. A name ("Pulled Pork Palooza", "Operation Dessert Storm" or the like) isn't required, but the crawl should have a clearly defined purpose. Maybe it's a rib-focused crawl, where six rib fans split a whole rack at six different joints, or any similar crawl where one single meat is the subject of comparison and discussion. Or you could pick different meats at different joints, going with the specialty of the house. Hell, you could even do the masochist's crawl and visit seven different Dallas BBQ locations (NYC) in a single day. I'm not saying you have to have a theme or need to overthink things, but just ordering a bunch of dishes at each joint has a way of filling you up long before you've made it halfway through the intended restaurant roster.

• The Planning. Do your homework. Check the menus ahead of time. Is there a must-order dish that demands juggling the order of the joints or a preparation method that requires special attention? Check the Pigtrip reviews. Not because my opininion is right (it isn't; it's just an opinion). It's because the photos may help you decide which joints are the keepers and which joints won't make the cut.

• The Order. Give some forethought to the order of the joints. It's often assumed that the best route is the one with the shortest distance between joints, but spacing out the joints allows better digestion. If there are two joints close together, that's a good thing if they're #1 and #2 on your crawl, with an intermission before joint #3. If they're #2 and #3, it might be too much too fast. Since there's a natural tendency to not properly pace the eating at the beginning, it's a good idea to pick what you know or think will be the best joint for the leadoff slot. If your crawl takes a circular path to drop off and reclaim vehicles, the added benefit of this is a potential reprise at the end. If you just save the best joint for last, there's a chance you may be too full to enjoy it.

• The Pacing. Pacing is the single biggest key to successfully navigating a crawl. If you eat three ribs at every joint while also sampling other meats and sides, you'll crash and burn too soon. Although I generally try to order two or three ribs per person, my rule of thumb is to eat one no matter what, two if they're good and three only if they're exceptional.

• More Pacing. One rookie mistake I see time and time again is ordering too much food at once. It's not so much the quantity of food as much as the timing. Spreading the items out ensures you eat them while they're hot, prevents you from getting too full too fast, minimizes table clutter and allows good banter as you discuss each round.

• The Pace Setter. For those themeless crawls where we just order whatever strikes our fancy at each joint, I still like to have a de facto item to order at the outset. For a two- or four-person crawl, a pulled pork sandwich is ideal and much easier to share than you'd think. For an uneven crew, wings are a good choice, but I only recommend these if they're smoked. The de facto first item method gets the ball rolling, spaces out the food and buys time to peruse the menu at your leisure. If that first item is a disaster, this method is also a fail-safe against ordering more bad food.

• The Quantity. There's nothing wrong with ordering a lot of food at any one place, as long as: you're reasonably confident it will be good, you're not dead set on finishing it just because it's in front of you, and your crawlmates share your philosophy on spending and wasting. I'd rather over-order and leave much of it on the table. It costs more but I can try more things that way.

• The Leftovers. I have no beef with anyone who wants to take home all the extra slices of beef brisket, ribs or whatever’s left over. I generally shun leftovers so that I can eat light, ethnic or upscale on my "off" days. Just make sure you bring a cooler if we're crawling in the summer heat.

• The Timing. Brisket in particular should be eaten as soon as the plate hits the table. If you become engaged in the other offerings and make your way to the brisket last, you're not really eating the same meat as someone who struck first.

• The Esoterica. Although most crawls involve the mainstream choices on the menu, a large size gathering is the ideal chance to try that obscure dish you might not order otherwise, so go for it. Just don't overlook those second tier items like chicken and sausage that often take a backseat to ribs, pulled pork and brisket. And don't lose sight of the big picture.

• The Sides. Crawls are a great way to survey most if not all of the side dishes. It's best not to receive them all at once, so I like to order them in waves, trying to have each wave balance hot and cold, starch and vegetable, fried and not. You can always hold off on some of your choices and then double up on the sides you liked best. One thing, though: go easy on the baked beans, especially if you're riding in my car.

• The Mis En Plate. If you're sharing, be sure to ask for extra knives for cutting and extra utensils and plates for serving, and make sure there's a bone plate. Whenever possible, I like to let the side dishes make their way around the table while I focus on the meat. Then, when there's only a little of each side remaining, I'll eat right out of the serving bowls. It keeps my plate cleaner and it keeps cole slaw juice and other debris away from my meat.

• The Reveal. Don't be afraid to let your server or a curious manager overhear that you're on a BBQ crawl and will be comparing their 'cue to other stops on your trip. Knowing that you're into barbecue might lead them to put better stuff on your plate than they would ordinarily, and their natural desire to trump the competition may also bump the level up a little. The downside of this gambit is having to offer feedback at the end of the meal. If the 'cue is good, that can be a pleasure. If it's not, you either have to lie or give your diplomatic skills a workout as you awkwardly explain that their food is an insult to barbecue.

• The BBQ Samaritan. I've been on solo crawls where I wanted to try a certain appetizer or two but knew full well I'd barely make a dent in them. My solution? Sit at the bar, order a beer and the fried green tomatoes. Before taking any for myself I offer some to the other bar patrons, insisting they take at least two each. I do this not for free drinks in reciprocation but rather for free information. I get a lot of good BBQ joint opinions and tips this way.

• The Head. Restroom planning (also known in some circles as "waste management") is a critical component of an organized BBQ crawl. For reasons I won't get into, I don't like to take care of this at the restaurant. In certain parts of Boston, Cambridge and New York City, public rest rooms are hard to come by, so it helps to plan in advance. My gym membership, good at any Boston Sports Club and New York Sports Club location, has served me well in this regard.

(06/25/08)

Laying Down the Law (BBQ Style)

As the presidential candidates start to accelerate their campaign rhetoric, the time-tested “tough on crime” chestnut is certain to make an appearance. I’m not running for anything, but if I were, my platform would be sure to include a demand for immediate legislation to fight these crimes, barbecue and otherwise:

• If it ain't smoked, don't call it BBQ. There are too many so-called BBQ joints out there peddling oven-cooked, grill-heated fare as BBQ just because it's covered with BBQ sauce, but I'd never allow that under my watch. Their food might still be good (not usually), but it's going to be illegal to call it BBQ unless it is BBQ. In this era of pan-seared this and fire-roasted that in every upscale menu description, you can incorporate this approach to creatively describe how your chicken's really cooked, but you can't call it "BBQ chicken." One other offshoot of this law: an immediate cease and desist order if you bitch about how others confuse grilling and BBQ but constantly refer to your grilling contest as a barbecue contest.

• “Award Winning.” I’ve covered this ground before, but now I’m seeking to pass legislation. If you’re going to describe your ribs, sauce or barbecue in general as “award winning,” it’ll be a felony if you don't specifically say what award you won. It’ll also be a felony if you brag about your barbecue that won awards on the circuit but try to pass off ersatz ribs (cooked with different woods in different equipment, using different rubs and sauces) at your restaurant. One more thing: if you try to just hire an existing barbecue team to cook under your name (cooking totally different food) to bring trophies into your restaurant—and I know this is being done in some circles—you’ll be doing hard time for life.

• Chicken wings. There are two different wing crimes committed on an everyday basis at barbecue joints across the country. First, you can’t call them BBQ wings unless the wings are smoked (see above). When I’m in charge, all menus must declare whether the wings are deep fried, oven-baked or smoked. And then there’s the bigger crime: I’ll make sure you can no longer say “8 wings” on your menu if you only supply 4 drumettes and 4 wingettes, because that's only 4 wings! Eight wings means 8 whole wings, or 16 total pieces. It's time to end the deception.

• Reviews. I see many restaurant websites with a separate page listing reviews, press or “What people are saying about us.” That’s great, but if you’re going to have one of those pages, you have to include all reviews, both the good and the bad. I recently started adding “Other Opinion” at the bottom of my reviews. If you have a link to a contrarian review, pass it along and I’ll add it to my review.

• Table of Contents. OK, this one has little if anything to do with barbecue, but as a reader of food and other types of magazines, I’m constantly annoyed by the hide-and-seek approach to the table of contents. It shouldn’t take longer to find Jeffrey Steingarten’s Vogue column than it does to read it. My law: the table of contents has to start and finish within the first 10 pages or the magazine is off the stands.

• "Ribs" means more than one. If you provide a big ass beef rib that stands lonely but proud, that’s great. Call it the best beef rib on the planet. But if you call the dish “beef ribs” and there’s only one, the customer gets another one, on the house, or I'm shutting you down.

(05/30/08)

I Hate To Label All Chains As Bad, But....

They are. Some are better than others, some are tolerable in a pinch and some make you wonder why they're still in business. I'll tell you why: it's because they people who support them have less imagination than the "chefs" who create their cookie cutter menus.

When Panera first arrived in my hometown about ten years ago, it was totally new to the area. They had comfortable seats that put Starbucks to shame, took great effort to offer attentive service and used higher quality ingredients than you'd normally see at a chain. They even spoke English and served good coffee back then. Not any more. Whether it's due to growth or complacency or the difficulty finding good help, Panera has slid steadily downhill since those promising beginnings. I'll still take their "You Pick Two" over a fast food meal any day of the week, but it's not what it once was.

Above you see the apples that my wife and I received with our sandwiches a few days ago: labels still on and filthy. No, that's not the exception, that's how they come every time. You'd think somebody would care. Do you know any barbecue joints like that?

(04/13/08)

Things I'd Like To See, Part 2

Here are a few more ideas that have been running through my head lately.

Sausage Fatties at Barbecue Restaurants. Check out the barbecue bulletin boards and you’ll see nothing but hosannas for the gigantic sausage treat known as the fatty. But despite all the enthusiasm from the backyard barbecue crowd, I’ve yet to see fatties on a barbecue restaurant menu. Traditionally, a fatty is simply sausage meat (like Jimmy Dean) without any casing, rolled into a fat (hence the name) log, rubbed and smoked. They can also be stuffed with cheese, peppers and other assorted complementary flavors. Because of the relatively short cooking time, they make a great snack or appetizer for guests while you’re waiting for the rest of the meats to smoke. In a restaurant setting, I could see a fatty appetizer served sliced on the bias, fanned atop sliced lettuce, with some interesting dipping sauces. It would be a winner if some restaurateur had the foresight to offer it.

A “Repeat” Category at a Barbecue Contest. In competition, there are usually four categories: chicken, ribs, pork and brisket, typically submitted starting at 12:00 noon and at 30-minute intervals to allow preparation time. Often there’s a fifth category for something unique, like smoked fish, vegetable or fruit. I’d like to see a second ribs or chicken category, but with a twist: you can’t use traditional barbecue flavors. There’s a debate among competition cooks over whether non-traditional flavors (such as Asian, Caribbean, etc.) can win in competition. Even those who think it’s possible are unwilling to gamble a potential trophy by cooking outside their normal comfort zone. That’s why a separate category (with no impact on grand championship) would give them the creative freedom to let it all hang out and see what they can come up with. I’m sure the results would be interesting and delicious, but this is the only way I see it happening.

Make Your Own Ribs. Here’s a free idea for any barbecue restaurant that’s closed on Sunday and needs a way to improve business on Monday. There are brew-your-own-beer businesses that have workshops where you come in, prepare the hops and other brewing ingredients onsite, leave them with the establishment to ferment, then pick your beer up weeks later. Similarly, a barbecue restaurant could offer a Sunday afternoon workshop. You’d prepare your rub, apply it to the meat, create a sauce and leave everything with the pitmaster, who’d smoke it Monday to have it waiting for you Monday night. You could take the ribs home or (even better for the restaurant) eat them there while ordering drinks and desserts.

PigTrip: the Novel. I can see it now: mystery, romance, intrigue and violence, all in the world of barbecue. I’m thinking of sportswriter and death-as-cottage-industry author Mitch Albom to ghost write it, and when I approach him to pitch it, I’m hoping he’ll say, “I’m all ears!”

Rib Flights. Some upscale restaurants have “wine flights,” where you receive three small glasses of similar wines to compare and contrast. Why not rib flights? There could be three different rubs or sauces applied to the same cut of meat. Or different cuts of pork rib (one spare, one babyback, one St Louis and a small pile of rib tips). Or there could be different ribs entirely, with lamb or bison ribs as the wildcards.

read Things I'd Like To See, Part 1

(04/08/08)

Dining With Other Couples

I'm going to concede up front that this is only loosely connected with barbecue, but lately my wife and I have been joining other couples at barbecue joints as well as more upscale restaurants. Eating out with another couple can be a lot of fun, but more often it can lead to a lot of anxiety. Here’s a baker’s dozen of my reasons why.

Picking the Place. Sometimes picking out a restaurant that’ll make everyone happy can be tougher than bringing peace to the Middle East. Different people place different values on quality and have different thresholds of how much they’re willing to spend for that quality. Some won’t spend more than $20 per person (my wife feels deprived if we spend less than $20 per entrée). Some friends are vegetarian. Some can’t have dairy. Some can’t have carbs. Some don't do ethnic. Some don't do spicy. Some don’t do barbecue. I don’t do chains. The focus of the evening out is simply enjoying the other couple’s company, but if we’re at the Olive Garden, I’m too distracted planning the next night’s meal in my head to join in the conversation.

Home Court. In sports, the “home court advantage” is critical, and so it is with couples dining. If the other couple live far away, it’s much more convenient dining somewhere near you than near them: it saves time and gas and makes it easier to imbibe, knowing that you won’t be driving too far. But sometimes you’d rather give up the home court, especially if you know one couple will be inviting the other couple over after dinner. Why clean the house when you can just visit someone else’s house instead? This may not be the best tactic if the other couple has a cat or no concept of how high to turn up the heat. But it does give you more control over when to end the evening (it’s much easier to leave someone else’s house than to ask someone to leave your house). Of course, there are times when you’d rather just have both couples head their separate ways after dinner, and this calls for a “neutral court” location just inconvenient enough to both homes to ensure no invites either way.

The Recommendation. Raving to friends about a restaurant and then having them finally join us there is a joy, but with that joy comes a lot of pressure. It’s not only the restaurant’s reputation that’s on the line, but mine as well, because I recommended it. If the restaurant is less than stellar that one time, my judgment will be suspect.

Favorite Places. If we’re dining with a couple for the first time, I’m always hesitant to bring them to a restaurant where we’re regulars. If they ask to switch tables, make countless substitutions and other high maintenance requests, hate the food, send something back or tip poorly, my reputation is also on the line with the restaurant. It’s a lot of pressure. Similarly, it’s tough to muster a gung-ho response when the other couple has home court and asks, “Isn’t this one of the best steaks you’ve ever had?”

Kiss kiss. I’m never quite sure how this came to be, but there are some couples you kiss, some couples you hug and some couples you just stand back and wave to, and it’s important to keep track of who’s who. Especially important when dining with multiple couples is never mixing couples from different groups. That could get awkward.

Who’s Driving? I don’t mind driving, but I’d rather not drive, because there’s no upside, only potential disaster. I could miss an exit while the other couple wonder what I’m doing. I could take 15 iterations to complete a parallel parking job, while a crowd looks on. Or I could get into an accident (it hasn’t happened yet, but I’ve had nightmares about getting into an accident with $100 of takeout Chinese in the passenger’s seat and having the guests at home wondering whether I’ve made off with their food). Also, as in the home court, why clean your car if you can just ride in someone else’s car? Driving separately and having a designated meeting place is ideal.

Appetizers. This can make or break a night out with another couple. There are different philosophies on how to approach appetizers when you have a table of four. Someone might shyly suggest, “Do you want to split an appetizer?” And to that I say, “Sure!” But I’m thinking to myself, “Only one appetizer? One appetizer for four people? Are you freakin’ nuts? Are you freakin’ cheap? Are you freakin’ anorexic?” Like I said, different couples have different philosophies. Some want one appetizer for the table. Some want one appetizer for each couple, with intra-couple sharing but no inter-couple sharing. I’m with the camp that insists on four appetizers for four people, with sharing all around. As long as you order items everyone likes and make sure serving utensils are used, this is the way to go.

Oh, I almost forgot: there are some couples who don’t even want to go near the appetizers, preferring to go with only an entrée. Again, I say, but this time out loud: “Are you freakin’ nuts?” When we find ourselves with one of these couples, it’s a lose-lose situation, where we have to decide: do we order appetizers and eat them while the other couple twiddles their thumbs (talk about awkward) or skip the appetizers altogether just to keep the peace?

Double dipping. At some restaurants, one of the highlights of the meal is the bread basket, and for me those cases usually involve some sort dip (pesto, aioli, oil) as opposed to butter. Luckily, I haven’t had an instance where double dipping was involved, and I wouldn’t want there to be. But the no double dipping rule sort of takes the bread out of the equation for me, and that’s a tremendous sacrifice. Sitting at a four-top and having the pesto bowl way over at the far reaches of the table doesn’t help either.

Desserts. See appetizers.

Drinks. This category is also pretty similar to the appetizer philosophies, and note that I’m not talking about the financial implications here or with the appetizers—I’ll get to that later. Some couples drink, some don’t. Some drink a lot, some drink a little. Some drink beer, some drink wine. Some drink red wine, some drink white wine. OK, you get the idea. I say drink what you like and like what you drink, but if the two couples are in harmony drink-wise, it makes for a much smoother, relaxed evening. Sharing a bottle of wine or turning each other onto little known microbrews is as much a part of the meal as the food and conversation. If my wife and I are drinking and the other couple aren’t, I feel guilty, and will usually only have one beer.

Splitting the Check. Read Chowhound.com’s Not About Food board and you’ll often see posts debating how to divide the bill. One easy answer is to just divide everything right down the middle. If my wife and I had chicken and fish, and the other couple had more expensive steak and lobster, no big deal. If my wife and I had two drinks apiece and the other couple had three drinks apiece, again no big deal. If they had six each, I’d like to think someone would speak up. If my wife and I had appetizers and the other couple didn’t, or we had beer and the other couple had refillable Cokes, there’s no way I’d divide the check evenly: we’d pay more and we’d do so willingly. But I’d still obsess over whether the other couple was thinking as we’re ordering that I’d to try to split it evenly. With some couples, there’s a comfort zone and you don’t have to obsess, but too often the mental tabulating and calculating can drive you nuts. This reinforces the idea that if you get another couple who shares your appetizers and drinks philosophies, you’re in luck.

Tipping. For every Chowhound post on dividing the bill, there are probably three on tipping, and everyone has different thresholds for what constitutes bad service and how well to reward good service. I like to give a generous tip and I don’t expect the other couple to do the same, but fair is fair. There have been times when the other couple was so stingy with the tip that I went back afterward and gave our server an extra $10. One time we dined with another couple and there were a few service issues, but more due to kitchen errors and poor training than on the server’s ill intent. We left a decent tip, they left no tip, and now I always wonder if the server thinks it’s me who stiffed her whenever we go back.

Method of Payment. Yes, this is yet another source of neurotic obsessing. Ideally, both couples pay in cash. I almost always pay in cash, because it’s better for the server. But I also don’t want the other couple to think that I’m using plastic because I can’t afford the meal, or to pad my airline miles, or to get a cash advance or use their contribution to subsidize a portion of our meal. Similarly, I confess that I’m sometimes wary of couples that seem to always take my cash and pay by credit card. And then there’s the dilemma of whether to peek at the credit card slip to see if they really left the tip we agreed on.

Well, there you have it. A little long winded, but I think I covered all the bases. Don’t get me wrong, dining with other couples can be a lot of fun—but if they don’t eat like you, drink like you and tip like you, the anxiety just might outweigh the fun. Either way, the car ride home talking about the other couple with your spouse is guaranteed to be fun.

(04/02/08)

What Would Matt Do?

His blog posts aren't that frequent now that he's immersed in the restaurant world, but they're often filled with poignant writing and some of the tastiest looking food porn (home cooked) you'll ever see. Some of my favorite Matt Fisher writing is found not on his blog, but on Chowhound, where he posts as BackyardChef.

In this era of my-joint-is-best, your-joint-sucks closedmindedness, it's refreshing to see someone posting with a level head. When a Chowhound poster asks advice on a barbecue joint, Matt doesn't get into the partisan fray. Instead, he'll extol the virtues of a few different joints, letting readers make up their own minds. It's not so much to avoid negativity, but to allow for the fact that Matt's favorite joint might not be your favorite, and vice versa.

Inspired by this approach, I now ask myself, "What would Matt do?" whenever I sit down to write a review. It doesn't mean I have to like everything (believe me, I don't), and it doesn't mean I have to hold back when I think something's awful. It just means I can get my point across without taking cheap shots. We'll see how this plays out in the review I'm posting tomorrow.

(03/19/08)

Channeling Mario Batali, BBQ Style

One of the epic shames in modern television is that the great Mario Batali has been exiled to a once-a-week 10AM Monday time slot. He’s a favorite not only because his food is fantastic, but also because he’s such a great educator. The sheer number of words per minute on his shows has to exceed any other, and his words are well chosen. While some of his colleagues (I’d seriously hesitate to use the word “peers”) at the Food Network are satisfied with catchphrases like “Bam!” and “Yummo,” most of Batali’s mantras are actually complete sentences, and—you were probably wondering where all this was headed—they actually apply quite well to barbecue.

Dress it like a salad. I must have heard Batali say that a hundred times while talking about how much sauce should coat the pasta. If your sauce-to-pasta ratio is similar to how you’d dress a salad, you’ll have a chance to taste both the sauce and the pasta. Just as there are some who believe that the pasta is merely a vessel for the sauce, there’s the barbecue camp who believe that the meat takes second fiddle to the barbecue sauce. Go ahead and use sauce, but if you let the sauce complement the meat without obliterating it, you’ll be having ribs Mario style.

Buy what’s fresh. Batali’s recipes are demonstrated using a specific fish or a specific vegetable, but he always reminds us that the quintessential Italian cook heads to the market not with that specific fish or vegetable in mind. So if the asparagus look particularly fresh that day, that’s what goes into the dish even if the recipe calls for broccoli. If the mussels look off and the clams look great, go with the clams. The backyard chef should use the same approach: if the spare ribs don’t look so great but the babybacks look fantastic, I’ll take the babybacks even though that’s not what I came in for.

Develop relationships with your fishmonger. Batali is always trumpeting the importance of establishing good relationships with all of your key purveyors, whether it be your fishmonger, your butcher or your cheese man. Sure, going to specialty shops is going to cost you more than a trip to Wal-Mart or BJs, but you’re going to get a better product. If you have a regular butcher that you’re loyal to, that loyalty will probably be returned—whether it’s tastings of new products, special ordering of hard-to-get items or better cuts of meat set aside specifically for you. Finding that perfect rack of spares won’t be a problem, because it’ll already be wrapped with your name on the butcher paper.

The spectrum of flavor. There might be parsley cooked into a dish as one of its base flavors, but you’ll see Batali add fresh parsley at the end, to give you both ends of the spectrum. The same herb cooked and raw offers two related but quite different flavors. Or that extra splash of extra virgin olive oil to finish the dish, even though there’s plenty of olive oil already there. It adds richness but also a complexity, with two different takes on the same flavor. Barbecue offers many opportunities to apply this same technique. How about serrano powder in the dry rub and more serrano in the barbecue sauce? How about cherries in the sauce to coat ribs cooked over cherry wood? How about a mustard slather topped with a dry rub that includes mustard seeds? How about toasting half of the mustard seeds in a fry pan and using the other half untoasted? The possibilities are endless.

The bitter component. If you haven’t developed a taste for it, you might think it odd when Batali talks about the “bitter component” to round out a dish or a meal. But as Italians know, sometimes bitter greens offer a welcome counterbalance to heavy dishes like braised pork shank or the overly sweet flavors of an agro dolce sauce. And so it is with barbecue, where I’ll go for the collard greens over the potatoes every time.

(02/12/08)

NYC BBQ: Dr. BBQ Joins Southern Hospitality

This has been in the works for a while. Ray Lampe, most famous for his success on the competition circuit and his popular Dr. BBQ cookbooks, is now the executive chef at Justin Timberlake's Manhattan BBQ eatery Southern Hospitality.

The curious thing about this major personnel change is that it was announced—if that's what you want to call it—so quietly. I'd heard rumblings as early as December, but I hadn't seen anything in writing until a grilling article by Lampe in the February 4 issue of People Magazine credited the author as Southern Hospitality's execitive chef.

Maybe getting scooped by People is the reason there's been nary a mention of Lampe's joining Southern Hospitality on restaurant sites like Grub Street and Eater. Back in June, a Grub Street reporter didn't get her way at the Southern Hospitality's opening night party, while reporters from People got first class treatment and access. There was some grumbling (read: whining) soon after, so maybe the only Southern Hospitality news you'll hear from those camps is bad news. Just yesterday Eater ran a piece on the imminent fall of another Timberlake restaurant.

It wasn't until a few days ago that the Southern Hospitality website itself mentioned Lampe. The understated redesign no longer features "Sexy Back" as background music. Maybe it's a sign that they're ready to focus on the food and are now trying to succeed on the merit of the restaurant rather than the celebrity of the owner. That's a good thing. But if Southern Hospitality was a chick magnet before Ray Lampe came aboard, I can only imagine what it'll be like now.

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(02/03/08)

O Say Can You See?

Some time around 6:00PM tonight, before the Super Bowl kicks off, more Americans will hear those words collectively than ever before. Today I'm wondering how many restaurant owners and managers take that phrase to heart in their everyday running of the business.

One of the great things about going to RUB in New York City, besides the food, is watching owner Andrew Fischel in action. I usually sit at the bar and chew the fat with him while I eat. Although I'd like to think he's fully absorbed in our sparking conversation, I know better, and I wouldn't have it any other way. That's because his eyes are on every plate in the dining room in front of him, verifying that there are no problems and looking to anticipate problems before they happen. Pacing behind the bar like a caged tiger, Fischel pounces on the servers as they emerge from the kitchen, checking every plate for proper meat doneness and proper presentation before they can be brought to the table. In this era when restaurant managers and owners are all too quick to ask how everything was at the end of the meal, it's refreshing to see someone who takes a proactive approach during the meal.

Ask yourself how often your restaurant manager is seeing and acting on the following:

• Whether the meat is cooked properly. I've had ribs that were over-charred, I've had ribs that were frightfully pale and I've had brisket that was embarrasingly dry and looked it, all plainly visible to management. I've even had a manager himself run a plate of woefully undercooked chicken wings to the table. How could he have not noticed that they weren't cooked?

• Whether the portions are consistent. Ray and Robert Barone aren't the only ones who are envious if the other gets a bigger portion. It's human nature. I've been at restaurants where a person at the table next to me ordered the exact same ribs I did, but his were literally twice as thick. I recognize that dealing with the meat supplier is a challenge unto itself, but making sure everyone gets the same portion avoids discontent. I know one restaurant that switched from racks and half racks to ribs by the pound because customers complained about bigger portions at the next table. But getting the sides portions right should be a slam dunk. Do you really want to risk losing a customer over 10 cents worth of mashed potatoes?

• When the lettuce on the salad is brown. Or for that matter, when the peppers are slimy and moldy. Or when the tomatoes aren't ripe. Or when there are tomato or cucumber stems in the miscut pieces. I've received too many salads that were guilty of all of the above. You'd think someone in the kitchen would do a spot check before bad vegetables even made it to the plate.

• When a customer sends food back. This can be a simple mixup of the wrong sides being put on the plate, or it can be that the food was awful. I've been in too many restaurants where food has been sent back while the management is oblivious, watching TV at the bar or yukking it up with the help at the hostess stand. If I owned a restaurant and I saw something being sent back, I'd want to know why and I'd make sure whoever sent it back got taken care of.

• When a customer isn't eating his food. Sometimes customers who aren't happy with the food don't send it back. Sometimes it's out of fear that they'll get more than just a new plate of food. Or they just don't want to make a fuss. A little recognition and reaction can convert a one-time dissatisfied customer into a regular customer, but too often it just goes unnoticed.

• When a customer is waiting for something. Eating out isn't cheap, so when you do, you want to enjoy the experience as well as the food. If my hot chicken appetizer arrives before my wife's salad, I can't really enjoy it, knowing she's waiting. And by the time the salad finally arrives, it may be too late to enjoy it. Maybe we both received our appetizers, but I have no spoon to eat my chili and our server is out back grabbing a smoke. Or maybe we're waiting 15 minutes just to place our order, while watching our server help another server sing Happy Birthday to another table (this happened just the other night). Good restaurant managers know how to recognize when somebody needs something. Great managers have that ability and put it into action throughout the shift.

(02/01/08)

Super Bowl Thoughts

Just a few days to go until the big game. Here's what's on my mind:

• I'm rooting for the Patriots and expect them to win, but would be surprised if it were a blowout. I'd be very happy with a Patriots blowout, however.

• The Giants are on a roll now, more so than the Patriots. Yes, the Patriots have a "perfect" 18-0 record so far, but they've made too many mistakes lately to be called perfect. It's a lot like some of my favorite BBQ joints: they're my favorites, and they're the best, but perfect? No.

• Tiki who?

• Tom Brady is already one of the greatest quarterbacks who ever played the game, but a win on Sunday would place him in that best-of-the-best category. There are quarterbacks who are known for gaudy stats (Marino, Manning) and there are quarterbacks who are known for winning (Bradshaw, Montana), but Brady has the potential to establish himself as that rare QB with both attributes in spades.

• If you could be Tom Brady for one day, either on or off the field, but not both, which would you pick?

• Ordinarily, I'd be going through my Super Bowl snack menu for the sixth or seventh time by now, looking for holes to plug in the line-up, but I'm just not into it this year. I might smoke some chicken thighs, but other than that, I'm going to just take it easy on the barbecue this weekend.

(01/04/08)

Andy Husbands, Steve Uliss Trading Cards

Here are some collector cards from a series issued in 2004 to raise money for charity. Card #1 in the series is Andy Husbands, then of Rouge (Boston MA; he also owned and still owns Tremont 647 in Boston). Card #21 is Steve Uliss of Firefly's (Marlborough, Framingham and Quincy MA).

Being the nut that I am, I decided to get them autographed. I started with Steve, since I bought the card set at Firefly's. Steve told me to tell Andy when I saw him that he taught Andy everything he knows about barbecue.

As you may recall from the Pigtrip Chris Schlesinger interview, Chris claims to have taught Andy everything he knows about barbecue. If you've read the Mike Mills book Peace, Love and Barbecue, you may have seen the quotation from Kenton "Jake" Jacobs that he taught Andy everything he knows about barbecue.

When I handed his card to Andy at the kitchen at Rouge, I passed along Steve's message. Andy told me to tell Steve that he taught Steve everything he knows about barbecue.

(12/05/07)

For One More Day: The Ten Dead BBQ Joints I Most Wish I Could Visit, Part 2

Here's the second half of my list of barbecue joints I wish were alive for one more day. This list includes a few that I heard great things about but was never able to confirm in person.

Armadillo Depot, Worcester MA (closed 2007)

This joint on Park Avenue had been hailed by Chowhound.com founder Jim Leff as one of the best examples of Texas barbecue in the Northeast. I liked the way they smoked their meats but not how they reheated them, receiving cold food too many times. Now that I'm working in Worcester, I'd love to get those flavorful ribs just once, even if it meant investing in a toaster oven to finish the job back at the office.

Jake and Earl's, Cambridge MA (closed 1996)

I visited the original Jake and Earl's only once or twice in the early 1990s, but that was before I discovered East Coast Grill, the more upscale restaurant next door that shared the same kitchen (and owner, Chris Schlesinger). ECG eventually expanded into the area that was Jake's. I'd love to go back to see some of the talent who once manned that joint before branching out on their own: Andy Husbands (Tremont 647 and Rouge), Jake Jacobs (Jake's Boss BBQ), Chris Janowski (Blue Ribbon), Don Yovicsin (Jake's Dixie Roadhouse).

Pearson's, NYC (closed 2005)

From all I've heard and read about this place (as well as the pitmaster's earlier joints in Long Island City and Stratford CT), "English" Bob Pearson was ahead of his time. This former hairdresser from England had the audacity to serve a super smoky brand of barbecue without barbecue sauce, and it developed a cult following. One reader reminisced not just about the excellent barbecue but also how well it paired with the fresh Portuguese rolls Pearson obtained from a bakery in Bridgeport.

Poppa Rick's, Woodbury NYC (closed 2006?)

I'd heard good things about Poppa Rick's, including this from barbecue maven Josh Ozersky in a 2005 Newsday piece: "Crude, simple and magnificent, these monsters fairly burst with pork-fat flavor." I once spoke to pitmaster Rick Anselmi over the phone in 2005, to find out if they were open. But I never found the time to make the visit on that trip to the in-laws, and I lost my chance.

Slade's, Boston MA

Supposedly it's still operating as a jazz club, but in the 1960s, when it was owned by Boston Celtics center Bill Russell, it was the place for ribs and sports celebrities.

(12/04/07)

For One More Day: The Ten Dead BBQ Joints I Most Wish I Could Visit, Part 1

Sportswriter turned author Mitch Albom has created a cottage industry out of his series of books revolving around love and death. His most recent is called For One More Day, and it's been adapted into a TV movie that will air this Sunday night on ABC. It explores the question: What would you do if you could spend one more day with a lost loved one?

Here are the ten barbecue joints that I'd most like to be alive again, if only for one more day:

Holy Smokes, W. Hatfield MA (closed 2007)

This converted church was a fun place, with stained glass windows, pews turned into picnic benches, and hanging painted sculptures of flying pigs. But what made this place really fun were the pig and other meats that flew out of the smoker. Their beef shortrib topped my list in that category, and their pork ribs and chicken were both excellent. Add artisanal made-from-scratch sauces and some of the best sides I’ve ever had in a barbecue restaurant, and you’ve got a winner who’s run was cut too short when the place burned down last summer.

Rouge, Boston MA (closed 2006)

This upscale New Orleans style eatery with a bordello vibe gradually morphed into a barbecue joint for the hipster set, with memorable cocktails and special event dinners. I liked this Andy Husbands restaurant in all its incarnations, whether I was there for the chiles rellenos, the New Orleans BBQ shrimp, the Wedge salad, the Rhode Island style calamari, the sage rubbed skirt steak or (usually) the barbecue “Samplah” plate. Their cherry glazed pork rib prompted an awed 2005 dining companion to blurt, “So this is what a good rib tastes like!”

Jake’s Boss BBQ, Jamaica Plain MA (closed 2005)

Located across the street from Doyle’s, the oldest bar in Boston, Jake’s was the most recent joint run by Kenton "Jake" Jacobs, the man Chris Schlesinger calls the “living legend of barbecue.” For a long time, their pulled pork shoulder was the best you could possibly find in any Massachusetts city not named Newton or Arlington. The ribs were about as reliable as their HVAC system, but every third visit, they were on a par with the best I’d tasted, with an assertively spiced thick crust that yielded to a tender, smoky interior. I’d heard good things about their brisket, so I’d love to try that.

Porterhouse Café, Cambridge MA (closed 1999?)

At one time Jim Fahey (now at the Forest Café, a Mexican joint a little further south on Massachusetts Ave) was one of the Boston area’s leading practitioners of ribs. This dimly lit dive in Cambridge’s Porter Square served a rack of “monster babybacks” that hung off the edges of a sizeable plate. It’s the first place that ever served me fried pickles, and it's the first joint I fell in love with. I’d love to go back to see if I’d hold Porterhouse Café in the same high regard now as I did more than a decade ago.

Spitfires, Canton MA (closed 2007)

Located just a few miles from where I used to work, Spitfires started out as a poor man’s Blue Ribbon and ended as more of a homeless man’s Blue Ribbon. They usually had serviceable ‘cue, but the thing I’d go back for is their elusive Tex-Mex potato salad, created by their first pitmaster who's now back at Blue Ribbon. It's still the best potato salad I ever had and the only one I've ever craved.

(11/21/07)

Famous Dave's in Saugus Closes: A Win?

Yesterday I read on the Boston Chowhound board that the Saugus outpost of the Famous Dave's chain had closed. I wonder whether it's a reflection of the highly competetive restaurant ennvironment on Route 1, a backlash against an outside chain (a la Krispy Kreme), or simply a backlash against bad barbecue.

Within the thread, there was a mini-debate over whether one of the first responders was right for "cheering" this closing, claiming it as a "win." There was a heaping helping of guilt, with the moral highground poster citing that people were out of jobs, taxes were being lost, etc.

I'm sorry, but I'm on the side that's cheering. It's not a win simply because a corporate giant failed. It's a win for all the little guys who save up their own money, buy a little shop and smoke the meats on site, with no vacuum sealed, pre-smoked assistance. Restaurants are the most competetive of all businesses, with more than half failing in the first year. A new restaurant opens, another closes. If it were up to me, none of them would close. But with only so many diners and dining dollars to go around, there'll be closings all the time, it's just a matter of who. So when Goliath closes and David is left standing, I call that a win.

the Chowhound thread on Famous Dave's

(10/24/07)

My 12 Favorite Bowls of Chili

Since October is National Chili Month and we're past the halfway point for the month, I'd say it's time for a list of my favorite bowls of chili at New York and New England barbecue joints. As with all of my lists, note that I say "favorite", not "best," because I haven't tried them all and because your mileage may vary. One other thing: slots #1 and #2 are rock solid, but rankings #3 through #12 are prone to flip-flopping, depending on my mood or my most recent experience.

#1 All Star Sandwich Bar, Cambridge MA
This isn't a full-fledged barbecue joint, but on a part time basis they offer pulled pork and brisket sandwiches made with the meats smoked a few doors down at East Coast Grill. This "no beans, no cryin'" chili, available full-time and containing the brisket from these same pits, is the best combination of meat, heat and spice I've ever tasted. You might say "heat and spice" is redundant, but it's not. There's plenty of heat from the chiles and there's plenty of savory flavors going on thanks to the liberal use of cumin and other ingredients that hit you from a different angle entirely. The cornbread that accompanies it is pretty good too.

www.allstarsandwichbar.com

#2 Big W's, Wingdale NY
There are two chilis available here, and both are excellent. Whether you choose beef or chicken, you'll get a tremendous amount of meat and a mildly spiced broth that enhances the meat without overshadowing it. The nice thing about the brisket chili is that the fat has already been trimmed from the slices. The nice thing about the chicken chili is that it's healthy enough—and good enough—to eat every day. The nice thing about both chilis is you can include as a side on your combo platter.

www.bigwbbq.com

#3 Jake's Dixie Roadhouse, Waltham MA
This is one of the few chilis out there that's pure, unadulterated pork, with a very spicy broth.

www.jakes-bbq.com

#4 Hill Country BBQ, New York City
The other flavors kick in too, but what you notice most about this chili is that it's made with beer, and lots of it. There are no beans and though there's an adequate portion of beef, there's plenty of that beer and chile pepper-studded broth. If they used larger chunks of the same brisket available in the meat line, I'd rank this a slot or two higher.

www.hillcountryny.com

#5 Daisy May's, New York City
This chili is widely regarded as the best in the city, and not just among barbecue joints. It's pure beef, served in big, tender chunks, with just enough broth to serve as a lubricant. The spice level is fairly mild, but the flavor is very pleasant.

www.daisymaysbbq.com

#6 RUB BBQ, New York City
This is my highest-ranking chili that has beans, and it's because they blend nicely with the more abundant similar-sized chunks of very smoky brisket. The heat level is medium.

www.rubbbq.net

#7 Waterfront Ale House, New York City
Here's another joint that's not quite a barbecue joint, but still has barbecue on the menu. It's also a joint that has two varieties of chili. I haven't tried the venison and black bean version, but I'm looking forward to it. The beef and pork version, with medium-high heat, is a basic straightforward chili, but one of the best basic straightforward chilis out there.

www.waterfrontalehouse.com

#8 Little Danny's Taste of Texas, South Windsor CT
This bowl of chili is also basic and straightforward, but it's made with buffalo meat. Different texture, different flavor, and it's good. If buffalo isn't your thing, they have beef chili too.

www.dannyslittletasteoftexas.com

#9 Buck's Naked, Freeport ME
It seems as though they take an "everything but the kitchen sink" approach here, because this chili has beef, pork, chicken and a couple of different beans. I've only had it once, so I wonder if it changes from day to day.

www.bucksnaked-bbq.com

#10 Chili Head BBQ, W. Bridgewater MA
For a Texas style barbecue joint, the beans in the chili are a little out of place, but rather than being unwelcome intruders for texture only, they actually supply much of the flavor. The meat is a combination of ground beef and large brisket cubes. But the really unique thing about this chili is that you can customize the heat level when you order it, on a scale of 1 to 15. Anything over a 10 requires a signed waiver. You can also use El Yucateo hot sauce at the table to add even more heat if necessary.

www.chiliheadbbq.com

#11 Redbones, Somerville MA
There are so many appetizers on the Redbones menu, it's easy to forget about the chili, but theirs is pretty memorable. It's made with large cubes of beef and the broth is very thin, like beef stock. A little unorthodox, but it gets the job done.

www.redbonesbbq.com

#12 Firefly's, 3 MA locations
The chili here—a mix of brisket, sirloin and pork—is like a microcosm of the restaurant as a whole. Sometimes there's beans, sometimes there's not. Sometimes it's thick, sometimes it's thin. Sometimes it's mostly beef, sometimes it's mostly pork. More often than not, it's good, and when it's on, it's very good.

www.fireflysbbq.com

(10/22/07)

Loud, Louder, Loudest

There comes a time when you realize you're getting old, and for me that time is now. Packs of high scool girls, dressed scantily for their weekly Friday night mall appearance, no longer make me turn my head. Some of their tattoos and piercings, and the places they put them on, actually make me shake my head. Much like the generation before me, I can't understand the appeal of some of the music they listen to, but I can at least understand that it was bound to happen. What I really can't understand is how, when or why loud became equated with cool. Have you been in an Abercrombie and Fitch lately? It's not a store, it's a loud disco that just happens to sell clothing (and obnoxious cologne). And the kids love it. And they love it so much they'll go there and call their friends on their cellphones, making sure they're in the loudest part of the store (disco) before placing the call. I wouldn't be able to hear anyone on the other end if I tried that, but hey, different strokes for different folks.

I say different strokes, but the fact that this whole "loud is cool" phenomenon is affecting restaurants is really annoying me. Walk down any "restaurant row" (Moody Street in Waltham MA, Hanover Street in Boston's North End, dozens of equivalents in NYC) and you'll notice that there'll be a few restaurants that seem to be where the party is. The music is loud, the conversation is louder to overcome the music, and everything is magnified by the acoustics specifically designed to enhance the "loud is cool" mystique. It draws people in like the Pied Piper, as if they're going to miss something by going to the quiet little restaurant a few doors down that actually serves good food.

These "loud is cool" establishments are the food version of Lindsey Lohan: unable to catch your attention through culinary talent, they'll make you notice them through cheaper, lazier means. Sadly, this strategy seems to be working. I hate these places and I hate Lindsey Lohan.

Can you tell I didn't have barbecue this weekend?

(10/08/07)

Rule #1: Say When You're Open

I have the day off from work today, so I was toying with the idea of a small-scale pigtrip later to parts unknown (not likely, but it's fun to toy). Just as Sy Sperling is not only the president of Hair Club for Men but also a client, I not only maintain the Pigtrip Joints directory, I'm a client as well. As I was using it to view about a dozen candidate joints' websites, I was amazed at how many restaurants don't bother to list one of the most important pieces of information they can provide: when they''re open.

Attention restaurant owners: I like your cool Flash videos, I like your explanation of what a smoke ring is and why I should choose your joint over the next guy's (I really do). But aside from the menu, what I really want to know is what days you're open and what hours. A lot of people travel on Sundays and on half-assed holidays like today (Columbus Day) and would be more than eager to give you a try if they know you're open.

(10/03/07)

Things I'd Like To See, Part 1

I'm always thinking of barbecue ideas, so here's what I'm thinking there oughtta be:

BBQ at Gas Stations?
It sounds odd, but it makes sense. It’s expensive opening a restaurant nowadays, so unless you have a sugar daddy, making the leap from barbecue competitor to barbecue restaurateur isn’t as easy as you’d want it to be. In 1930, Harlan Sanders (before he was known as the Colonel) got his Kentucky Fried Chicken empire off the ground by selling his soon-to-be-legendary poultry at his gas station. Maybe that’s the route some future legend in the barbecue world will take to get started. “Twenty dollars of high test and two racks of ribs, please.”

Wesson Bread
I can still remember those commercials of my youth, where (even before Florence Henderson), they’d take an unsliced loaf of bread, square it off to remove the crust, then deep fry it in Wesson oil. It always looked great. I bet some enterprising restaurant owner could showcase this as an “amuse” before the meal, as an appetizer (maybe with a spicy dipping sauce) or as a housing for an even fattier rendition of a chopped brisket sandwich.

Two Kinds of Pulled Pork
Why not? If KFC offers regular and extra crispy chicken, why can’t a barbecue restaurant offer both a traditional pork shoulder as well as a Jamaican jerk-rubbed one? Or an out-there coriander-caraway-rubbed one? Or Sichuan peppercorn and basil? The oddball offshoots don’t have to be available regularly, but could rotate as second choice specials.

BBQ Breakfast
You can get Sunday brunch at joints like Duke’s (NYC) and LJ’s BBQ (Pawtucket RI), and Redbones (Somerville MA) is probably the best of the bunch, but this is a largely untapped market. Sausages are easy to smoke, and briskets coming right out of the smoker after an all-night smoke would go perfectly with eggs. I’ve seen some creative things done with potatoes and sweet potatoes at grilling contests, many of which would be ideal as a breakfast side.

Chili Tank
At some Starbucks locations, I’ve seen Ghostbusters-like backpack contraptions that mobile baristas wear to dispense hot coffee outdoors. Why not chili?

A Flay-McDavid Reunion
If Eddie Van Halen can come to his senses and tour with David Lee Roth again, it’s high time Bobby Flay came to his senses and reunite with his Grillin' and Chillin' television partner, Jack McDavid. Flay has since done other Food Network shows with other co-hosts and solo, but the best television he ever did was with McDavid, the yin to Flay’s yang. City slicker Flay liked gas, high heat and cutting edge vinaigrettes, while bumpkin McDavid was strictly old school. We need more Jack McDavid nowadays.

(08/17/07)

BBQ Joint Pet Peeves II: the All Quotes Edition

Here’s another assortment of pet peeves, this time a collection of things people say that cause me to bristle. Sometimes they’re said by servers, sometimes customers, sometimes owners and sometimes even me. Most of these are service-related and most are just as likely to happen at any restaurant in America. I’ve arranged these in chronological order, from the time you’re greeted to the time you leave.

“I'll be taking care of you.”

The full version of this one is something like, “Hi, my name is Jen and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I start you off with a drink?” Unless it comes out hyper-rehearsed, it doesn’t become a peeve until Jen lets 20 minutes go by without taking our food order. Or lets my beer glass reach the empty mark. And remain so for 20 minutes while she compares nail polish styles with another server. Or forgets to check back to see if everything was ok after our entrees were served by a runner instead of her. If that’s taking care of me, I’d hate to see what not taking care of me is like.

“Is this your first visit?”

This often gets squeezed in between “I’ll be taking care of you” and “Can I start you off with a drink?” It’s also not a peeve as long as they have something informative to offer other than “Welcome back!” if I say no or “Well, you’re in for a treat!” if I say yes. I’m looking for helpful nuggets like whether salads are included or whether you can make substitutions or what the house specialty is.

“We’ve got the best pulled pork on the Island!”

This is an actual quote from a restaurateur on Long Island, responding to my question on which sandwich to order. Sometimes statements like this are the result of an inquiry like mine, and sometimes they flow naturally as a follow-up to the “Is this your first visit?” question. Either way, it’s a peeve on too many fronts to count, but I’ll offer a few. 1) It’s too self-serving to be taken seriously even if you honestly believe it’s true. 2) Unless you’ve tried every pulled pork on the Island (and you probably haven’t), you have no basis to believe it’s true. 3) Not only did it not turn out to be the best pulled pork on Long Island, it was one of the worst I’ve ever tasted. I know, I know, I was the one who asked, but he could have simply said, “I’d go with the pulled pork, it’s our house specialty!” (Although he should have said, “I’d go with the pulled pork, it doesn’t suck as much as our brisket!”)

“How was everything?”

I’ve often found myself in a sit-down joint where the owner makes the rounds, marching down the aisle, asking customers how everything was. In most cases, it’s apparent that this is merely an exercise, because he’s going so fast, there’s only time for a 1- or 2-syllable response before he asks the next table. “How was everything?” “Great!” “How was everything?” “Awesome!” “How was everything?” “Incredible!”

If you’re going to ask how everything was, be prepared to respond with something meaningful when a customer who’s not going along with the routine says, “The ribs were miniscule and cold, the pulled pork was the driest I’ve ever had and this brisket I wouldn’t even feed to my dog!”

“We’re going to be opening up several of these.”

If I had a dollar for every time I heard a restaurant owner say this, I’d have enough money to buy a 64-ounce Porterhouse steak at Peter Luger. If I had a dollar for every time I heard a restaurant owner say this before he had his first house in order, I’d have enough money to buy two 64-ounce Porterhouse steaks at Peter Luger.

“I’m going to open up a barbecue restaurant that’ll put all the others to shame.”

This is one that I hear a lot, and from different camps. From competition cooks during an all-nighter at a contest. From smoker-owning friends as we leave the parking lot after yet another disappointing barbecue restaurant meal. And I’ve even said it a few times myself. The reason it’s a pet peeve is that in most cases the claim isn’t based on reality. Sure, the barbecue you cook in your back yard is great. So is mine. But that doesn’t mean you know how to run a restaurant, where you have to worry about missed deliveries and employee theft and turnover and food waste and customer complaints and equipment failures. It’s not easy.

(08/08/07)

How To Tell If A BBQ Joint is Going To Be Good

A few months ago, barbecue personality Remus Powers (Ardie Davis) wrote an article in the Bullsheet (the Kansas City Barbeque Society's monthy newsletter) talking about the five rules that determine whether a barbecue joint is worth a visit. In June, White Trash BBQ summarized these rules for What Makes a Good BBQ Joint.

I mostly agree with them, as long as you apply them loosely. After visiting more than 100 barbecue joints, I've developed a few of my own:

1. Can you smell any smoke?

If you can smell the smoke, it’s a good sign. For years I lived about a block from a Burger King and the fragrance each night was amazing, but that’s not what you want to smell. I’m talking about the sweet aroma of burning fruitwoods. When Blue Ribbon (W. Newton MA) still did their smoking onsite (it’s now done at an offsite commissary under owner Geoff Janowski’s supervision), I could smell it all the way from the treadmill at the gym next door and it would cut my workout time in half. Ideally, you shouldn’t smell the smoke as far as a block away, but notice it just before you walk in the restaurant’s front door. At Goody Cole’s (Brentwood NH) and Holy Smokes (W. Hatfield MA), I don’t always notice it that much while I’m there but can pick it up on my shirt after I get home. Burning wood means smoked meat. The joint might still not get it totally right, but at least you know they’re not cooking your ribs in an oven.

2. Do the other diner’s plates look good?

If it’s a sit down place where the hostess leads you to your table, do some advance scouting along the way by checking out the plates at other diner’s tables. Does the brisket look dry or juicy? Are the ribs meaty or thin? Is the pulled pork served in big chunk and long strings, or overmashed? Is the ‘cue too dependent on the sauce? I’m not saying you should leave based on your observations, but they might steer you into ordering the meat they do best, or possibly a fail-safe burger. I also like to look at other diner’s plates during and after the meal, as a sanity check. There’s always the chance that I just happened to wind up with a more-meaty, less-meaty, drier or wetter rack of ribs than is the norm.

3. Do they only serve babybacks?

If the restaurant’s menu says they only have babyback ribs, that’s cause for concern. Babybacks are great when they’re done right, but too often they’re just a shortcut. They’re already tender, so you could get away with just grilling them, which I’ve seen too often at barbecue restaurants. The greater risk is that they’re going to be the soggy, overcooked dreck that’s commonly served at all the chain restaurants. There are exceptions, of course. Buck’s Naked (Freeport ME) only serves babybacks and Willie B’s (Bay Shore NY) started out with just babybacks, but both joints completely defied the babyback stereotype, serving smoky, well-seasoned ‘cue that’s real and good.

4. Does the menu emphasize breadth over depth?

Barbecue joints that are heavy on breadth and light on depth scare me. By breadth, I mean a wider than wide-ranging menu full of non-barbecue items like pastas, salads, steaks, fish and the like. I understand the need to diversify the menu—it’s almost a necessity to attract the diverse customer base that can sustain the restaurant’s profitability. But straying too far from the barbecue basics can have two effects: less attention paid to the barbecue items and slower barbecue turnover. The first effect is self-explanatory, but the slower turnover could be even more devastating. Fresh ‘cue requires a large and steady volume. Adding all those other items may be good for business, but you may be hijacking your own customers and hurting your barbecue.

By depth, I mean barbecue options. Are there different cuts of pork ribs? Do they only serve beef ribs? Rib tips? Can you get sliced brisket and chopped brisket? Do they have burnt ends? Do they go beyond the basics and offer smoked pastrami, lamb or duck? Depth is a good sign, especially if they offer something out of the ordinary. What if there’s a glaring omission, like the lack of pulled pork at Hill Country (NYC) or the missing brisket at KC’s Rib Shack (Manchester NH)? If it means they’re focusing more attention on other meats instead, that’s okay. As long as it doesn’t mean more pasta.

5. Is there an open kitchen?

If there’s an open kitchen or anything close to it, that’s a good sign. I’m not saying that those who don’t have one always have something to hide, but some do. If you can follow the path your meat takes, from the time it leaves the smoker (ideally) or a holding bin (the next best thing) to the cutting board to the plate, you’ve got a high probability of getting good ‘cue. Sometimes you only get to see the last few steps, like at Lester’s (Burlington MA), Big W (Wingdale NY). Other times you have to peek through a window specifically designed for the voyeur, like at Q (Port Chester NY) or RUB (NYC). I’m a big fan of the grillside table at East Coast Grill (Cambridge MA), where you can sit within arm’s reach of the warming racks of ribs and spit-cooked chickens, observing the entire operation from the fry cooks to the grill team.

6. Is the joint near the ocean or in a tourist area?

I haven’t had good luck with barbecue joints near the ocean or near vacation spots in general, and it’s probably not just a coincidence. Restaurants in tourist areas typically don’t depend on repeat business. They know you’re probably not coming back anyway, so why jump through hoops to impress?

7. Are there more than four TVs?

Some joints have a television set or two because they know there are some customers who want to check a score during a sporting event. It also gives the lone diners something to do besides stare at the other diners. Sports bars can be a lot of fun, but if there are more than four TVs, they become less of an amenity and more of the main attraction. At a good ‘cue joint, the barbecue is supposed to be the main attraction. The most notable exception is Bailey’s Smokehouse (Blauvelt NY), which would also be an exception to a “Do they serve pizza?” rule.

(08/02/07)

Names and Concepts for BBQ Joints

I long ago stopped thinking up names for bands and now just focus on names for restaurants. Here are several million dollars worth of ideas, free for the taking:

Pulled Pork Sammy’s
The name comes from the urban slang for “sandwich,” but the concept is a pork shoulder-driven menu. It’s the cheapest and most profitable of all the barbecue meats, the easiest one to hold and reheat, and the healthiest option after chicken. There would be Carolina style sandwiches with slaw and super tart vinegar (my choice) and more Yankee-friendly versions with sweet sauce. There’d be cold pork salads with vegetables and herbs. There’d be different shoulders on display with different flavor profiles: mustard slathered, Mayo slathered, Jamaican jerk, Italian fennel seed, Sichuan peppercorns, you name it. And there’d be a nod to ice cream legend Steve Herrell: pork with mix-ins ranging from crispy smoked bacon cubes to dried apples. There would be enough choices that ribs wouldn’t even be necessary.

Embers
I don’t know why, but this is a name that requires dim lighting, white tablecloths, linen napkins and a serious wine list. The kind of a place where you’d expect to see roasted quail and smoked rack of lamb. The emphasis would be barbecue, but there would be steaks rivaling those at the major steakhouses.

Picnic
I just like the name because it’s not only a cut from the pig, but also the event at which you eat it. It’s one of those one-word-singular names you’d find in Manhattan.

Mosi Tatupu’s Big Island Luau
Here’s a combination that can’t fail: all-you-can-drink tropical cocktails, all-you-can-eat barbecue with Pacific Rim influences, tiki kitsch décor, live hula dancers and a Patriots-themed sports bar (old logo only) with a focus on Tatupu, the Samoan running back for the New England Patriots in the late 1970s and 1980s.

Pigtails
This pork haven is basically a Hooters rip-off, where the waitresses (sorry, no waiters here) would wear revealing pink shirts and their hair in pigtails. Completing the ensemble would be a pink pig tail, Playboy bunny style, at the appropriate location. The food? I haven’t gotten around to that part yet.

OYNK
Kosher pork on pumpernickel or rye. No milkshakes here.

Banff
This is an almost-rip-off, basically a more barbecue-centric version of the Bugaboo Creek chain. Amid Canadian wilderness décor, you can feast on barbecued venison, spit-roasted elk and (of course) Canadian bacon. The sauces would all include maple. And the name of the restaurant would be pronounced with both F’s, just as in the 1966 episode of F Troop that featured Paul Lynde as the Burglar of Banff. I can see it now: “Welcome to Banff, is this your ffirst visit?”

The Fridge
I thought of this one at least 20 years ago, long before I got hooked on barbecue, but it makes more sense with barbecue than with anything else. Imagine small, college-dorm-sized refrigerators, each filled with a different assortment of smoked meats, cheeses, creative condiments, fruits and vegetables. I’m talking smoked turkey legs wrapped in foil, chunks of smoked ham (or SPAM), smoked gouda, a slew of macaroni and potato salads, seasonal fruit, etc. You’d order the fridge of choice based on size, sight unseen, then your waiter would wheel it to the table and plug it in. You’d get carving knives and bread to make sandwiches, but the rest is up to you.

The Vat
Everything’s fried. Fish, chicken, even burgers. Bacon, smoked then fried. Sausages, smoked then fried. You want sides? Fried green tomatoes, onion rings, shoestring fries, fried cauliflower, fried fennel or fried artichoke hearts. This wouldn’t be like the Just Shirts store that also has pants. Everything’s fried, period. At the end of the meal you don’t just get a wetnap, but Clearasil and Lipitor too.

Bar Sinister
This watering hole’s name is borrowed from Underdog’s #1 nemesis, but other than that, there wouldn’t be any tie-in. I just like the name.

Just names:

• Asian Pan (pan Asian)
• Pork Avenue
• Cracklins
• Dip (what they call sauce in North Carolina)
• Low Calcutta (Indian food for the dieting crowd)
• Cheesesteak Factory (you'd get sued but think of it as advertising)
• Belmont Steaks

(07/13/07)

"Award Winning" Barbecue at Restaurants

In a recent Pet Peeves post, I talked about “award winning” barbecue, effectively saying that you’ve got to take these awards with a grain of salt. Now don’t get me wrong (or as Roger Clemens likes to say, “make no mistake about it”), I have the utmost respect for both restaurateurs and competition BBQ chefs. Winning first place in a BBQ competition is a huge accomplishment and a testament to the skill and dedication of the entire team. I’m just saying that the ‘cue served in the restaurant at a restaurant that touts its awards will usually bear little resemblance to the ‘cue that won those awards.

But how can it?

In competition, the pitmasters know the turn-in times (one for each different meat) and structure their entire cooking and serving process around the notion that the barbecue will be at its absolute peak at its one designated time. That won’t happen in a restaurant, even by sheer coincidence.

In competition, the meats are served right out of the smoker, never having seen a refrigerator after cooking. With very few exceptions, that doesn’t happen even at the best barbecue restaurants. Unlike a steak that’s cooked to order, barbecued meats have to be cooked long before the customer even thinks of dining in the restaurant. In order to handle the anticipated volume, the restaurant needs to cook just enough product. Cooking less than that could mean turning business away (i.e., for customers who only come for the burnt ends and have no interest in the brisket). Cooking more than that results in two difficult choices at the end of the day: throw the leftover meat away (which is tantamount to throwing money away) or refrigerate it and reheat it the next day. Some joints do a really good job reheating, but it’s just not the same as meat right from the smoker.

Restaurant pitmasters usually use different equipment at their restaurants from what they use in competition, whether due to the high volume or their smoke ventilation requirements. In competition, they may be using different woods and a stronger level of smoke than is commercially viable at the restaurant. Barbecue judges like more smoke than soccer moms do, but it’s the soccer moms who may be keeping the restaurant in business.

There’s something about a competition that gets the creative juices flowing. The restaurant pitmaster may be experimenting with new rubs and sauces that are completely different from what’s used in the restaurant. If these get good responses from the judges and the friends who taste samples, they might make their way into the restaurant.

Most importantly, there’s that extra level of care and attention paid to serving that one container of ‘cue. Everything has to be perfect and everything is checked and double-checked for doneness, flavor and appearance. There will be more time spent getting the lettuce to look pretty at the bottom of the competition container than will be spent making sure everything’s right on your plate in the restaurant.

So does all this mean that you should dismiss the rows of trophies and claims of awards? Absolutely not. At a joint with trophies, chances are you’re going to get a good meal (and there's one I know where you'll get a great meal). Just don’t expect the same barbecue that won the trophy.

(06/28/07 and 6/29/07)

Thoughts While Judging in NH

Last Sunday I judged the Kansas City Barbeque Society (KCBS) barbecue contest at the Anheuser-Busch grounds in Merrimack NH. The weather was perfect, the barbecue was good and it was a great opportunity to make new friends and re-connect with old ones. Here’s just a sample of what was trickling through my mind as I judged.

The scoring

Each of the meats is judged for appearance, taste and tenderness, on a scale of 2 to 9 (there is no such thing as a perfect 10; a 1 is reserved for disqualifications). Assigning a score is a lot harder than you’d think, because the scores typically wind up being 6s, 7s and 8s, with an occasional 9 or 5. The resulting narrow margin of actual scores makes every point count that much more.

In the sport of boxing, most rounds are scored 10-9, with a knockdown required to get a 10-8 round; 10-7 rounds are practically unheard of. This means that not all 10-9 rounds are alike. Barbecue scoring is often very similar: two ribs can both be scored an 8 for taste even though one is noticeably better, just because there’s such a narrow range used.

KCBS recently changed the way judges approach the numbers to achieve a greater separation in the scores. Instead of starting at a 9 with points taken off for imperfections, every entry now starts as a 6 and can get bumped up or down accordingly. That’s how I was trained, that’s how I judge and that’s how I think it should be. A score of 6 is considered average, so you’ve really got to earn those 8s and 9s from me. I don’t look at it as penalizing the cooks to whom I give a 7 instead of an 8. I look at it as rewarding the cooks who earned my 8s and 9s by not giving them away to everyone else too.

Chicken

Of the six chicken entries I judged, four boxes had thighs, one had wings and one had slices. This is typical, as most teams submit thighs, since they cook evenly, remain moist and fit easily into the box. I’ve occasionally seen wings, more often seen legs and a few times a combination of legs and thighs (each of the 6 judges can pick any piece in the box while still available). If I were competing, I’d always submit thighs—for the reasons stated above as well as my success rate with them.

Pork Ribs

Of the six rib entries I judged, three boxes had babybacks, two had St Louis cut and one had a meaty loin back rib. I’ve seen babybacks before, but this was the first time they were in the majority. I like when a team presents the ribs in a way that lets you see not only the sauced tops but also the unsauced sides. Spares are the longest and the meatiest, but they’re risky for competition: they cook unevenly, they have pockets of fat that may wind up in a judge’s only bite and it’s hard to fit six or more into the box. If I were competing, I’d always submit St Louis ribs—but I’d make sure what they lacked in length they made up for in height.

Pork Shoulder

Of the six pork entries I judged, four boxes had a combination of strings and bark, one box had just slices and one box had slices and strings. I like variety, because it makes the presentation look better and gives me more ways to reward you for appearance, taste and texture. One well known competitor from New York once told me that he sometimes presents five different pork options for competition. If I were competing, I probably wouldn’t offer that much variety, but I’d be sure to offer a few different looks and tastes. After all of the scoresheets were turned in, our table had mixed opinion on that box with just slices. One judge thought it was the best entry of the six, another judge or two thought it was okay and a few other judges (myself included) thought the meat was overcooked and oversauced. Different strokes for different folks, I guess, but that’s what makes it fun. And neither camp is right or wrong.

Brisket

Of the six brisket entries I judged, five boxes had slices and one had a combination of pulled brisket and smaller slices. In the past I’ve seen thick slices, thin slices, burnt ends, chunks, chopped brisket and thin brisket strings. Again, the more options you give me, the more chances you have to score well. When two kinds of meat are presented (say, slices and chunks), there’s differing opinion, even among trained judges, as to whether you’re supposed to average the two mental scores or score based on whichever of the two you like best.

For each the first three meats that day, my highest score wound up going to the fourth of the group, but the brisket broke that string. The fourth entry here had falling-apart brisket slices on a just few shreds of lettuce (all entries are garnished) that didn’t come close to covering the bottom of the box. If the meat looked good, the lettuce wouldn’t matter, but a half-assed garnish makes no sense. Either do it right or have the balls to go with no garnish at all (I’d score Hill Country’s sliced brisket a 9 if it came ungarnished). Another interesting entry in the brisket category looked great but was very tough. But the thing that really made it interesting was that it was sliced so thick. Thick slices are usually a ploy to mask overcooked brisket to keep it from falling apart, just as extra thin slices are a way of dealing with tough brisket. This cook did it the other way around and it cost him points.

Scoring Challenges

When I first started judging, I was always the last judge at the table to submit my scorecard. I’m still among the slower judges, because I want to do the best job I can. There’s often a lot of money at stake for the competition teams and there’s always a lot of time and money invested, so I don’t take my responsibility as a judge lightly. The hardest part of judging is having already awarded an 8 and a 9, then tasting something that’s better than the 8 but not as good as the 9. Or tasting something better than that 9. You have to judge each entry in order, without going back and changing scores. Each entry should be judged on its own merit, not in relation to the other entries. I can’t say I don’t consider the scores I’ve already given out when judging the next piece of meat, but you’re not supposed to. To get into the rhythm of assigning scores with speed and confidence, I prepare with 10 minutes of rating the photos on www.hotornot.com. The same scoring dilemmas come up, but with practice, it gets easy.

Can you fry chicken at a BBQ contest?

The most interesting entry in the chicken category looked more like something from General Gau (who’s never been seen in the same room at the same time as General Tso) than something from a barbecue contest. All of the judges silently wondered whether the six thighs were smoked or fried or something in between. They had a light coating of egg wash and flour that enabled them to retain a crisp skin. The rub was unique, with lots of cinnamon, and the faint coating of sauce had a coconut flavor. Highly unusual, but evidently legal. As long as they used wood and smoke and not oil, this was fair game. The flavor was good and the tenderness of the meat was perfect. Usually an entry does well across the board or poorly across the board, with the three scores for appearance, taste and tenderness not necessarily identical but somewhat close. This was a rare example of a 5-7-9 score from me. I don’t think it had a chance to win, but I really enjoyed that chicken and give props to the team for submitting something creative and different.

Should the scores for each entry be similar?

That chicken entry and the unusual way I scored it reminded me of a discussion I overheard the very first time I judged. One of the judges was questioning the credibility of another judge who scored an entry a 9 for tenderness but a 7 for taste, or vice versa. His argument was that if one category deserved a similarly high score, so did the other. I disagree. Take the most perfect ribs (or chicken, or whatever) imaginable. They’d deserve a 9 for taste and a 9 for tenderness. What if those same ribs were pulled from the smoker 90 minutes earlier or 90 minutes later?