Pork

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!

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.

Though the introduction of ribs to Big Bob Gibson’s menu was enthusiastically embraced by the locals, the recipe itself was, well, pretty bare-bones—simply a full-size sparerib seasoned with salt and pepper and slow-smoked. In 1979, Don McLemore offered a bonus to any employee who could improve on Big Bob’s ribs. During the next week the rib usage went up tenfold but profits took a nosedive, as the extremely well-fed pit workers experimented with different preparations. When the smoke cleared two weeks later, Steve Bullard earned a dime raise with this recipe.

Back ribs are sometimes referred to as loin back ribs but are most commonly called baby back ribs. The baby back rib is cut from the upper section of the rib cage below the spine and the loin muscle of the pig. A slab of baby back ribs can have as many as 15 bones (the number of bones in a pig’s rib cage). This long thin cut of pork has many defining characteristics. The bones are no thicker than a finger and are slightly curved. Because of the small bones there is generally more meat between each bone than on spare ribs. Baby back ribs are the leanest pork rib type, with a less pronounced pork flavor and a finer and denser texture. Pineapple Sweet Ribs utilize a sweet rub and a fruity liquid seasoning, followed by a sweet glaze. The key to a multi-step rib is to layer the flavors, creating complex tastes without overpowering the pork flavor. This strategy worked at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo in 2004, when the judges declared this rib recipe the winner of this world championship event.

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!

Over the years the rib recipe at Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Q has changed many times, running the gamut from full-size spare ribs to today’s meaty St. Louis–cut spare ribs. The seasoning and the sauce have evolved as well, moving from salt and pepper to a complex seasoning blend and a finishing touch of our own championship red sauce. Spare ribs are cut from the lower portion of the rib cage below the back ribs, including a portion of the breast bone. The bones of the spare rib vary in size and length, ranging from short and round to long and flat, and they have less curvature than baby back ribs. The meat contains a high percentage of fat and thus yields a tender finished product. The term “St. Louis cut” is used when the breast bone and cartilage are cut from a spare rib, leaving a slab of ribs with a more uniform size and shape. The breast bone can be used for stock, and the leftover meat and cartilage can be seasoned and cooked for rib tips. A full-size spare rib can be trimmed easily at home, or your local butcher can trim the rib and give you the bonus cuttings. The recipe that follows is as close to what we use at the restaurant as I can give without being disowned by the family. I think you will recognize the similarities—and perhaps even like it better!

It is impossible to discuss Memphis barbecue without talking about ribs. Where in most places the rib-loving factions are divided between those who prefer baby backs to spareribs (or vice versa), in Memphis the two different camps are partisans of either dry or wet preparations. Wet ribs are daubed with sauce before serving. Dry ribs can have either a dry rub added prior to cooking or a seasoning blend applied after cooking. Either way, no tomato-based sauce touches a dry rib from Memphis.

The great Georgia humorist Roy Blount Jr. once joked, “Brunswick stew is what happens when small mammals carrying ears of corn fall into barbecue pits.” The origin of this thick stewed concoction is debatable, but most trace it back to 1828 in Brunswick, Georgia. Brunswick stew is a thick vegetable stew with shredded meat that is cooked over low heat in a large pot. Traditionally, it was made from squirrel or sometimes rabbit, and it has always been a popular way for hunters to make a complete meal from their wild game. Today, Brunswick stew is popular across the Southeast, although the squirrel and rabbit are generally replaced with pork, chicken, and beef. The vegetables might include corn, onions, tomatoes, beans, squash, or okra. Often it is the feast for large gatherings, festivals, and fund-raisers.

One of the highlights in my culinary career was cooking for a Caribbean and Low-Country Food Festival I catered for Johnson & Wales University at the Middleton Place plantation outside of Charleston, South Carolina. We had just won the International Jamaican Jerk Style/Southern Barbecue Cook-Off, and we were invited to cook the Caribbean portion of the menu. Two 120-pound whole pigs were prepared for the event; one was cooked in the Jamaican jerk style, and the other was prepared Cuban-style with a sour-orange marinade. Once the guests were seated, the pigs were carried from the cooker like ancient royalty in a sedan-chair procession and presented at the head of the buffet. This was the only dinner I have ever attended where the main course, not the chef, got the standing ovation. I love the intensity and acidity of a sour-orange marinade, and over the years I have tried many ways to get these wonderful flavors dispersed throughout very thick cuts of meat. After much experimentation I’ve found that two solutions work best: a generous soaking with sour-orange flavors throughout the cooking process or a simple sour-orange injection. With apologies to traditionalists, I chose the latter.

In 2002, I received a phone call from Fast Eddie Maurin, a well known pitmaster and competition cook from Kansas City. He informed me that MAXIM magazine was doing an article on barbecuing whole pig with three different cooking methods: indirect cooking, underground, and open spit. Eddie told the editors of the magazine to look no further; he had two other experts lined up to help them pull off their three-way pig pickin’: Ray Lampe (aka Dr. BBQ) and me. In a gesture that would live up to his nickname, Eddie volunteered to cook one pig in a closed smoker with indirect heat. Now, any true barbecuer can cook a pig on an indirect cooker in his or her sleep, but there would be no sleep for whoever drew the labor-intensive spit. Later that day, the call I was anxiously awaiting came. The editor from MAXIM said, “I heard you were an expert at cooking a pig on an open spit.” Of all possible whole-pig cooking methods, the open spit arguably offers the best atmosphere for an outdoor party. Unlike other cookers, the open spit offers a clear view of the turning pig throughout the entire cook, enticing the crowd with both sights and smells of the barbecue. The spit becomes the centerpiece of conversation while barbecue anticipation builds to a climax.

The Hawaiian Pig can be a great option if your kettle grill and your 125-pound pig don’t seem to match. After all, not everyone has a big cooker, but everyone owns a shovel. As Tom Sawyer once said, “Digging the hole can be half the fun”—or something like that. And the moist and tender results from a homemade earthen oven are hard to match with any cooking apparatus. In Hawaii large volcanic rocks are used to line the imu, or underground oven. These rocks hold the heat for an extended period of time, ensuring a proper cook. You can substitute river rocks if they are taken from a “dry” river or creek bed. Rocks from a wet stream have trapped moisture and when they heat they can explode and send shards of sharp rock whistling through the air. You will also need to find banana leaves and/or ti leaves. Banana trees are often used as ornamental plants for residential landscaping, and leaves can be harvested with no damage to the tree. They are also available frozen in many Latin and Caribbean markets. Ti leaves can be acquired at your local florist, but they can be expensive.

Although Memphis itself is not noted for whole-pig barbecue, if you ever attend the Memphis in May World Championship Barbecue Cooking Contest, you will be able to get a taste. At this annual event there are three professional meat categories: whole hog, pork shoulder, and pork ribs. It is, after all, billed as “The Super Bowl of Swine.” Over the years, the flavor profile of the winning pigs at Memphis has changed, with the sweet and fruity flavors overtaking the vinegar-based flavors of traditional North Carolina pigs. No one has proved this better than Myron Mixon of the Jack’s Old South cooking team, whose peach-wood–smoked pig, layered with flavors from a sweet fruity injection and sweet tomato based sauce, has consistently put him on the awards podium. Layering complementary flavors is the key to success on the competition circuit. This recipe features the same sweet, fruity, layered flavors that have historically brought home the bacon at the Memphis.

One of the only places in the world where you can enjoy fresh, chopped whole pig straight from the barbecue cooker is in North Carolina. The tradition of cooking whole hog directly over hickory or oak wood that has been reduced to coals and then soaking the chopped meat with a vinegar-based sauce is one that has been enjoyed since the birth of American-style barbecue. The first time I experienced this exquisite taste, it was in the North Carolina countryside at a roadside shanty they called a restaurant. The rhythmic beat of the meat cleavers pounding the butcher block echoed through the rafters, and vibrations from the tin roof added harmony to this musical cadence. I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with locals waiting for a table to clear before being handed my greatly anticipated lunch. I watched moist chunks of hand-chopped pig fall from my overstuffed sandwich as I thanked God for North Carolina. Make this in your own backyard and you’ll be giving thanks as well.

Through changes in breeding and feed, today’s commodity pork cuts are 16 percent leaner and have 27 percent less saturated fat than those of just fifteen years ago. In my humble opinion, this might be a little too lean. Lower fat means less flavor and moisture within the meat. Regardless, one of my favorite cuts of meat for the charcoal grill is still the pork tenderloin. This lean cut has fewer than three grams of fat for a three-ounce serving; that’s as lean as a skinless chicken breast. Sometimes the pig doesn’t get the love it deserves, you know? To highlight the versatility of pork tenderloin, I served this recipe, inspired by my extensive travels in the Caribbean, the first time I cooked for the James Beard Foundation in New York City. Although I served it as an appetizer right off the grill, it also makes a wonderful main course. It combines some of my favorite Southern barbecue flavors with the traditional acidic punch of the food of the islands.

The pork tenderloin has a very mild flavor and because of this, it is a very versatile meat. It is often prepared with a strong, flavorful marinade, dry rub, stuffing, or sauce. This elongated muscle usually weighs between three quarters of a pound and one and a half pounds and can be cooked at either hot or low temperatures. The tenderloin is typically barbecued whole and, when done, cross-cut and served as medallions. Smoked Pork Tenderloin with Michigan Cherry Glaze begins with a bath in a rich marinade highlighted by cherry cola. Soy and brown sugar provide the depth of flavor, and the cherry cola adds a fruity punch while the acidity of it works to tenderize the meat. The earthy flavor of the smoked pork tenderloin is finished with a sweet glaze made from Michigan cherry preserves. This recipe was created in 2007 for an ESPN/Kingsford game day matchup when this tenderloin was pitted against Joe Theismann’s Luck o’ the Irish Lamb Chops. It was Michigan against Notre Dame on the field and grill. Here’s the winning recipe.

Above the shoulder of a pig from the neck to the hams lie the pork loins. Pigs are equipped with two meaty loins located on the top sides of the spine. Buying whole loins will not break your wallet or your waistline. A three-ounce serving contains about one hundred fifty calories with six grams of fat. These loins can be smoked whole, divided into smaller roasts (typically two to five pounds), or cut into pork chops. This cut should not be confused with the pork tenderloin, which is much smaller (three quarters of a pound to one and a half pounds) and is located in the loin area but underneath the rib cage of the pig. This recipe combines the charring effect of direct grilling and the slow heat of the indirect cooking process to create a tender roast that retains its moisture. I created this recipe for the National Pork Board a few years back. The Apple Bourbon Barbecue Sauce is a sweet complement to the spicy dry rub and smoked flavors. The dish is a nice change from pork chops, which is the traditional use for this cut of meat.

If a whole pork loin or pork loin roast is too large for your needs or will take too long to cook, loin chops are a great alternative. The following recipe qualifies as a “must cook” pork chop. I first made these chops while tailgating in Jupiter, Florida, at the St. Louis Cardinals’ spring training facility. March is not too early to start grilling, especially when you are sharing the grill with Hall of Fame shortstop Ozzie Smith! This recipe can be made with either bone-in chops or boneless pork loin cut in one-inch medallions. These pork chops feature apple cider brine and a fruity sweet glaze made from applesauce, cranberry sauce, and maple syrup.

When you have a craving for pulled pork but a whole shoulder is more meat than you need, the pork butt is your best option. The butt is not the rear end of a pig but the upper portion of the shoulder. This six- to eight-pound cut is usually well marbled and holds up well during long cooks. Most competition barbecue teams select the pork butt when going for the blue ribbon in the pork category because it has more marbling than the picnic portion of the shoulder and is more easily manageable on the grill than the entire shoulder. I created this recipe for a huge neighborhood block party in Birmingham, Alabama. There are only two things that go together better than a barbecue block party and Birmingham, and that is peaches and pork. If you are ever invited to a barbecue in Alabama, pack your overnight bag.

Some of my favorite times away from Big Bob Gibson’s have been spent learning the secrets of jerk barbecue in Jamaica. The cooking techniques and flavors of this wonderful Caribbean island are truly unique and magnificent. Scotch bonnet peppers, allspice, onions, garlic, and pimento-wood smoke make Jamaica a barbecue destination. By using these same Caribbean flavors on a pork picnic, which is the lower portion of a pig’s shoulder, authentic Jamaican Jerk can be made at home. If you are lucky enough to visit Jamaica, be sure to get out of the cities and locate any of the well-known jerk shacks scattered over the island. Most Jamaican barbecue joints contain two open-air barbecue pits, one for chicken and another for pork. Cooking pork on the chicken pit is strictly prohibited. A cooking grate made from pimento-wood logs laid side by side is placed directly over a bed of pimento-wood coals; to keep the wood grate from burning, the pitmaster hand turns each log every hour, and the pork or chicken on the cooking grate is covered with a thin sheet of corrugated metal. This simplest of cookers proves that it is not the sophistication of the cooker but the knowledge of the cook that produces the best ’Q! In 2003, my wife, Amy, and I went to Jamaica to cook in the International Jamaican Jerk Style/Southern Barbecue Cook-Off. Cooking teams from all over the world, including Switzerland, Puerto Rico, Germany, England, the United States, and Jamaica, competed in the event. Each team was given the same raw ingredients: two barrel grills, two chickens, two slabs of ribs, two pork butts, and two red snappers. The chickens were fresh and free range. I use the term “free range” with a bit of sarcasm because these beauties were muscled-up and tough. When holding the ribs up to the sky, beams of sunlight penetrated this thin cut of meat (Jamaican ribs: SPF 15). The cut of pork was unlike any I had ever seen. It contained a portion of the shoulder and of the neck, and it even had four ribs attached. Nonetheless, we were all on an even playing field—or grill. We had eighteen hours to prepare our entries and serve them to a group of judges comprised of an equal number of Jamaican and international judges. A “blind” judging procedure was used to score each category. By combining local jerk flavors with cooking techniques learned back home at Big Bob’s, we captured the Grand Championship.