My First “Real” Barbecue
For Christmas, I received a Weber Smokey Mountain Cooker/Smoker
. The WSM is a bullet smoker–throw some charcoal and wood chunks in the bottom, fill a bowl of water to serve as a heat sink, and dial the temperature in at around 225 degrees Fahrenheit and four to twelve hours later…awesome barbecue.
So far this year it had been either too cold or windy to break it out, but a weekend ago the weather warmed up and it was a perfect 50 degree day to make a test with some baby back ribs. I picked ribs as the optimal choice for low cost (in case I screwed up) and tastiness (in case it turned out well.) Despite a few beginner errors, it worked out fairly well.
The Recap
Prepare the Meat
I started about 11AM preparing the slabs. For the first smoke, we cooked two, each about two-and-a-quarter pounds, slightly larger than is recommended (you typically want a slab that’s just under two pounds.) Since the meat was (unfortunately) injected with some sort of “flavor solution” intended to make the ribs juicier, the weight most likely was higher than it would have been.
We mixed up the Best Ribs in the Universe (BRITU) rub, which on the surface appears a lot spicier than we’d normally go for, with cayenne pepper, but trusting those who went before us, we mixed up a 1/8th batch (and ended up with enough rub after a light dusting for pretty much all the smokes we’ll do this year.) These ribs were pre-trimmed, so I had no membrane to pull off, just a few areas of excess fat to trim back.
As the ribs sat at room temperature for two hours, I went out and started getting the smoker assembled and fired up. First, I poured out one chimney of Kingsford briquettes and set those aside; then another heaping chimney of Kingsford which I fired up.
Fire Good
A word about chimney starters
: get one. Seriously.
These things make lighting charcoal easy. They’re about $14, hold a chamber full of charcoal, and only take about two rolled up pieces of newspaper to get six pounds of charcoal fired up. No lighter fluid hassle, no “match light” bags full of starter fluid smell, no medieval looking electric starter with extension cords. Just roll up a circular wick/ring of papers underneath the chimney, set the chimney on your charcoal grate inside the smoker, light it and wait. In about twenty minutes, all the charcoal is ashed over and ready to go; dump it in the chamber, add the unlit charcoal and the smoking wood.
For this smoke, I used chunks of apple and cherry. Most people are lucky enough to find “fist-sized chunks” or “tennis ball sized chunks” of wood, but within a five mile radius of my house, the only fruit wood I could find were golf ball sized chunks of apple and cherry, so I had to throw a few more in to make up the difference, and reassembled the cooker to try to bring it to temperature.
Cherry and apple make for a sweeter and smoother flavor. The real BRITU recipe calls for a chunk of oak, but the only other wood chunks I had were some hickory. Most people I talked to didn’t like the strong hickory flavor in ribs, so I held back and stayed mild.
Wait
Most of the work was done; I just had to wait another hour for the temperature of the smoker to stabilize and for the rub to draw out the fluid from the meat. About 1PM, I rolled and skewered the ribs and put them on the top grate, with temperatures of the smoker at 300 and 210 at the lid and top grate respectively. This was the first indication that something was wrong—normally the temperature differential is more like 30-50 degrees. (Later: speculation on the cause of this mistake).
I hadn’t yet had a chance to buy a real rib rack
, so I went with the soaked bamboo skewers. The downside of using skewers is that you can’t lay the ribs out flat in a real slab when you’re finished, as they tend to break into several smaller slabs of 3-5 ribs each; also, you can only get about three on the top grate skewered, but can get as many as six with a rack and careful placement.
Check, Please
At around 3PM, a bit of internet checking revealed my rookie blunder of an incorrect assembly; since it was time to check the ribs and turn them, I also took the opportunity to don the heat-resistant gloves and fix the assembly by locating the water pan in its proper location. This is when I realized that I also hadn’t used enough fuel, so I tossed in a bit more, along with a couple more small wood chunks, and prepared for disaster. I most likely totally hosed up the temperature at this point. Opening up the smoker causes the coals to get a lot more oxygen and throw off a lot more heat, so even though you let a lot of ambient heat escape, the fire itself gets harder and the risk is that you can’t keep the temperature cool enough. Reassembled, the temperature at the lid spiked even though my purported grate temperature crept slowly up.
At 4PM, I checked and tried to run the temperature up for the finish, to 250-275 degrees. Although I couldn’t get the grate temperature about 222, the ribs themselves were done; a probe showed them well over 195 in most locations which was more done than I expected. I quickly pulled them off, prepared for the worst.
We went with the recommended 5:1 mix of KC Masterpiece with honey which is intended to take the spicy/salty edge off the BRITU rub. I’m not a KC Masterpiece fan; I’m more partial to Smokehouse myself, but we hadn’t had foresight to make a Smokehouse run, and didn’t have time to experiment with a homemade sauce. No complaints though, and it worked out better than the other sauce we had which was an extra-hot Gates sauce.
At the end of the day, I was pretty satisfied. I ended up on my feet most of the afternoon trying to figure out my temperature problems (all user error and mistakes I won’t make next time.) When I got things set up properly and dialed in, maintaining temperature in the WSM worked as advertised. I only burned myself twice; once when I tried to adjust a vent with a bare finger, and another time when the metal probe of my electronic monitor brushed my finger (same finger.)
With all that fun so described, I bring you:
Firebones’ Five Reasons to Get a Weber Smokey Mountain Smoker
It’s Geeky
Something about making minor adjustments to the airflow to control the temperature, trying to get the amount of fuel right, measuring the temperatures, preparing the meat–it turned out to be a little more geeky than I thought it’d be, like being a human fuzzy logic controller to optimize the smoking. I could easily see this devolving into a Make Magazine project involving radio sensors, actuating arms to control the vent settings, and multiple temperature logging real-time feeds. This way leads to madness.
It’s Idiot Proof
Despite all my blunders (see below), the ribs turned out quite well. For a first time cook, it’s apparently hard to screw up ribs or beer can chicken on the WSM. Once I master temperature control, I’ll move up to more expensive cuts that take longer. I learned a ton so I expect that in the future this will become as easy and as reliable as my gas grill (but better tasting).
It’s Fun and Maybe Even Fashionable
I had a choice to make in the morning when I set things up–put it in the backyard where no one could see me obsessing over the smoker, or in the front, where I could field the question of the occasional passer-by. Not entirely because the front was in the sun most of the day and the house served as a windbreak did I pick the front; it turned out it made for a more social activity than I expected. And after all was said and done, and only a pile of bones remained, it turned out to be a great way to kill a Sunday afternoon.
It Cleans Up Well
Later, after the fire burned out and the coals cooled in the 40-degree night air, and after watching the finale of The Wire, I disassembled everything and cleaned the grates, dumped out the water pan and emptied the cool ash into the yard waste container. The only messy part of the whole cleanup was wiping the fat drippings out of the water pan. That whole experience set me on the path to only smoke once every few weeks–my arteries may not clean up so easily.
Most Importantly, It’s Tasty
Despite all the mistakes, the ribs turned out good. The kids, who routinely hate anything I grill, sang the praises of Dad’s cooking. (Not really sensitive to Mom with that, were they?) Even a guest who hadn’t had ribs before became a convert. Because the guests were last minute, I didn’t get a chance to eat as much as I’d hoped, but I was pleased. While the “bark” was a little tough due to the bungled temperature control, the meat itself came off the bone cleanly and was juicy. Being the first time, I can’t grade the effort; all I know is that my fears were not realized.
Four n00b Mistakes
As this was a learning experience, let me share my screwups.
Picking Subpar Meat
The ribs I picked up were injected with a solution that is intended to make the meat juicier and more flavorful. In reality, I believe it simply is done to increase the weight of the slab, make you pay more per pound. It tends to make the meat saltier than it should be. Since I don’t really have anything to compare it to, I can’t say for sure; in fact, the added moisture may have compensated for overshooting the temperature.
Some (Mistaken) Assembly Required
While the WSM is insanely easy to put together, requiring one-time use of a screwdriver and a wrench, when it came time to put things together I messed up and ended up setting the water pan on the coals directly. How could I screw that up? Perhaps fascinated by the wonderful fire I failed to remember that the water bowl has a nice ledge it sets into far above the flames. I think the net result was that the smoker held a less consistent internal temperature. About half of the way through the smoke, I fixed the situation, but a chain of events had begun that took a while to sort out.
Additionally, I forgot to foil the water pan. When the meat cooks, the fat drips into the water pan. This isn’t that big of a deal, but it did make it a little messier to clean up. (The real reason to foil on a long cook is to prevent excess fat consolidating in the bowl letting water overflow into the charcoal chamber.)
Messing up the Fuel
Because I most likely ran too hot, the fuel ran out before the end of the smoke, so I had to add a few briquettes in the last half of the cook. The mistake: when a recommendation calls for “two heaping chimneys”, use two heaping chimneys, not two “sort of level” chimneys. The amount I added was close to what I left off from two heaping chimneys.
As mistakes go, this one was easily corrected by throwing in the extra fuel as needed through the access door when checking the water level.
Checking the Thermometers
I used an electronic probe threaded through the vent hole and held in place by a potato on the top grate to get one temperature reading, and a probe monitor from my gas grill through the top to get a lid temperature. Normally, the difference between lid and top grate is about 30-40 degrees; during my cook it was closer to a 75 degree difference. What’s not clear is why. I hadn’t calibrated either thermometer (by putting them in boiling water and checking how close to the boiling point the temperature was). I’m suspicious that the wire probe temperature might have been low due to the threading through the potato, and that the actual temperature was a lot higher. I don’t believe I ever exceeded a grate temperature of 221, yet the meat was done earlier than expected.
Overall: Get One
If you like BBQ, like to experiment, and need an excuse to goof around all day working on dinner, get a WSM and have some fun. As hobbies go, it’s one that’s low-key, gets you outside in all kinds of weather, serves as the perfect excuse to knock back a few while cooking, has science-y elements and culminates in a delicious result. The smoker can also be readily converted to a normal charcoal grill if you want to do steaks, burgers, or hot dogs “hot and fast” instead of real barbecue’s “low and slow” (low temperature, slow cooking.)
I’ll most likely take another shot at ribs or beer can chicken to get my temperature woes straightened out before moving on to a more advanced topic like brisket. Check back.
Irvine Welsh’s If You Liked School, You’ll Love Work
includes four short stories and one novella. The short stories cover more conventional American turf than do many of his past works, with a couple of stories set in the American Southwest, and one in suburban Chicago (and a final one across the shore set in Costa Brava), yet still capture a deeper exploration of some of the classic horror stories, urban legends and reversals of urban legends that you might find in the work of Chuck Palahniuk. Welsh is the kind of guy you could imagine bringing the Ryan’s Steakhouse Story to life in cringing, vivid Technicolor. One has to only remember the “Worst Toilet in Scotland” scene from Trainspotting
to see how short of stretch that actually is.
But the crown jewel of If You Liked School, You’ll Love Work is the concluding novella set in Cowdenbeath, Scotland, “The Kingdom of Fife”, which interleaves the stories of the unemployed four-foot seven ex-jockey and competitive table football (i.e., Subbuteo) player Jason King and the depressed horse jumper Jenni Cahill. In alternating chapters, we get pulled into the visceral, utterly unpretentious and earthy world of Jason, who lives with his father (a dispossessed middle-age white man in Scotland who listens to 50 Cent and finds kinship with the plight of the African-American) and between nights of drinking the “black gold” (pints of Guinness) at the local bar called the Goth, stalks Jenni and schemes how to make some money. Jason narrates in the first person, in a kind of phonetic Scottish dialect that at first can be hard to parse but after a few chapter flows and resonates in the ear. (Sample translations: Ehs == He’s, goat == got, yin == one, tae == to, doon == down.)
For her part, Jenni is the lesser light to her more outwardly beautiful and more talented friend who also jumps showhorses (with more success–Jenni’s horse is a lame burden upon her family.) Jenni is of a higher class–her narration is more straightforward linguistically and captures the angst of a miserable emo listening to Marilyn Manson alone in her room, plotting her escape from Cowdenbeath.
Welsh’s novella covers a wide emotional range in just a couple of hundred pages, and despite the trials, slights, deaths and travails that befall Jason and Jenni, conveys to the reader Jason’s relentlessly realistic and optimistic outlook. Jason’s foibles are readily admitted and owned shamelessly, making him someone you can root for, warts and all.
It’s hard not to see this novella—which carries echoes of Trainspotting, Four Weddings and a Funeral
, Ulysses
, and a kind of bizarro-world The Graduate
— not being optioned for a screenplay. Like the wee Jason, it may end up being a wee movie, but a wee one that I would pay to see.
If you’re patient enough to work through the dialect, If You Liked School, You’ll Love Work is without a doubt one of the most gritty (not quite filthy) and heartwarming stories you’ll read this year.
More links:
On the heels of my recent posts related to great programmers of the 70s and 80s, Leonard Richardson comes out this week with an excellent “Where are they now?” follow-up that tracks down the current disposition of each of the programmers profiled in Susan Lammers’ 1986 book Programmers at Work
, another influential text I read in my formative years as a developer.
Lammers’ book profiled what might now be called the original rockstar programmers: guys like Andy Hertzfeld, Charles Simonyi, Dan Bricklin, and Jonathan Sacks.
What’s striking is that unlike the rockstar entrepreneurs of today (on display in PaW’s equally zoological companion book from the 21st century, Founders at Work: Stories of Startups’ Early Days
), the programmers interviewed back in the mid-80s are humble, curious and focused on the code, perhaps even surprised that anyone would care to interview them about their work. In Founders, you can’t open a random page without encountering yet another insufferable ego (with the exception of a few notable interviews with del.icio.us founder Joshua Schacter and recently minted millionaire HOTorNOT founder James Hong); yet in Programmers at Work, the wonder shines through. There aren’t any Zed Shaws lurking in those pages.
Much of Programmers at Work holds up well even after 22 years. By today’s standards, a few of Lammers’ questions seem rather quaint (”Do you write a lot of comments in your programs?”), but then you’ll run into something interesting, like Simonyi taking a potshot at the “cult of simplicity” and how in the long run of computer science and other symbolic sciences, he believes that embracing complexity over simplicity will be what leads to the biggest breakthroughs. Leave it to the space-traveling creator of Hungarian notation to comment on that. At least Lammers didn’t ask Simonyi about his commenting style.
While The Soul Of A New Machine
showed a deep slice of real coders and engineers at work and inspired almost through tacit observation, Programmers at Work captured the breadth of the development opportunities available, in the programmers’ own words, and by showing their own work products in a much more explicit and expository form.
More PaW stuff here:
