Real American Barbecue

Just the thought of it makes my mouth water. If there ever was a poster child for the Slow Food Movement, I think that this cooking style could be it. What culinary alchemy do I speak of? Barbecue, of course. In this country, barbecue (also known as barbeque or BBQ) is defined as a method of cooking particularly tough or almost un-edible portions of a pig using low temperatures and hardwood smoke. The only possible addition to this definition would be the cooking of beef brisket, but that is a unique food item popular in Texas. As for traditional barbecue, this practice of cooking not only refers to the cooking medium, but has also come to be an event at which people gather and enjoy each others’ company while waiting for the pork to finish cooking.
What makes barbecuing such a unique cooking style is that instead of cooking meat to a specific temperature, you cook it to a particular doneness. For example, a traditional cut of meat for barbecue would be the pork shoulder (or Boston Butt, but no one seems to know why it’s called this. The “butt” refers to the “butt-end” of the shoulder, but as for “Boston”…) because it has a lot of connective tissue and a moderate amount of fat. As this meat is slowly heated over the course of 10 or 12 hours, the collagen in the connective tissue melts and turns into gelatin. As this gelatin is basted by the fat in the meat as it cooks, the meat now literally falls apart and the shoulder is easily shredded into edible chunks. The gelatin is also responsible for the satisfying “mouth-feel” that someone experiences as they eat the appropriately named “pulled pork”. No sauce is necessary when the pork provides its own!
The use of hardwood smoke is essential to the barbecue process, as well, because it not only provides the medium for the heat to transfer into the meat, but it also imparts its own unique flavor to the food that it is smoking. It is imperative that hardwood smoke be used, as any conifer or softwood tree releases pitch as it burns, and the resulting acrid smoke residue will destroy whatever food you are cooking. My personal favorite hardwood of choice is apple-wood, as I think it imparts a nice sweetness into the pork. Traditional “Pit Masters” use hickory, and this wood dishes-out a deep, heavy flavor into the meat. Mesquite wood is preferred by Texans for their brisket, and I’ve used pear and cherry-woods for adding special flavors to my pork.
Spice rubs are a hotly debated topic in the barbecue world, and with the exception of the question of whether to use sauce (and if so, what, kind…) nothing gets barbecue enthusiasts riled-up faster than what type of spice rub to use. By adding a mix of spices to a cut of meat, a person can seriously raise the flavor potential of an otherwise bland cut of pork, and the low temperature wood-smoke helps to create a type of “crust” around the meat as its fat begins to render off and mingle with the spices. This crust is affectionately known in the southern part of the United States as “Mr. Brown”. While every grocery store has dozens of spice rubs that they insist are the best for barbecue, the main ingredient is typically salt, and you pay through the nose for something that you can easily make at home for far less money. By using whole spices and grinding them as you need them, you not only save money, but the essential oils in the spices are protected from air until you release them through grinding. Once exposed to air, these spices quickly lose their flavor. As you are now in control of your spice rub, you can add as much heat (through chili’s or peppers) as you want, and as much salt as you want to create whatever flavor that you desire.
Low temperature (200 to about 225 degrees Fahrenheit) wood-smoke for barbecue can be achieved a number of ways. Traditionally, large logs of hardwood were set aflame and allowed to burn down to embers. The food (usually a whole pig) was then placed over the embers and allowed to cook over the smoldering embers. As this method is not very efficient, due to the large amounts of logs that would have to be carefully burned and tended (not to mention the possible exposure to rain or wind), new ways of harnessing the power of wood-smoke have been utilized. The Polynesians had the right idea with burying a whole pig with superheated rocks inside and around it to cook until it was tender. The Hawaiians still use a traditional imu pit for their kalua pig at luaus, and the packed earth around the pit helps retain heat and reflect it back into the meat. The only reason this isn’t considered barbecue (in an American sense) is that no smoke is involved in the cooking process. Modern pit-masters use a trench dug in the ground and lined with bricks or rocks, and then surround it somehow with more bricks or earth to protect it from the elements and offer a concentrated area for the smoke to rise and envelope the meat. Similar to a cob oven, heat is absorbed into the bricks and/or earth and radiated back into the food.
While this is the de facto standard for professional pit-masters in America, true barbecue can be achieved without retrofitting your entire backyard into a barbecue pit. Using a charcoal grill, for example, you can build a low-heat fire on one side of the grill, place soaked woodchips (so that they smolder instead of catch on fire) onto the coals, and place the meat on the other side of the grill. This method requires a lot of grill maintenance (refilling coals, replenishing wood chips, etc.) for the minimum of 10 hours required for cooking, so I prefer using an electric smoker. Looking very much like R2-D2 from the Star Wars films, my smoker allows me to place large chunks of wood into a metal dish that sits atop a modified hot plate. I can set my target temperature, place my food into the smoker, put the lid on, and only have to return every three hours or so to replenish the wood. This method yields incredibly tasty and tender barbecue, and its relatively low maintenance certainly makes life easier for me.
Barbecue is a commitment to time and taste. In our fast-food life of “commodified tastes”, it is nice to invest over half of a day into preparing a meal. This manner of cooking demands that I slow down and really think about what I am cooking, and I always feel a sense of pride whenever I bite into a pulled pork sandwich that I have made from scratch. This process puts me in touch with my food, and every time I make barbecued pork, it tastes a little different, adding to its appeal as a “slow food” in my diet. Because of the amount of work and time that goes into preparing this food, I rarely just cook it for only my wife and I. We will usually have a small group of family and friends over to celebrate life and enjoy each other’s company while we prepare and finally eat this pork. In this way, the food acts as a social connection, much in the same way as Steven Feld describes in his article, The Boy Who Became a Muni Bird. In this article, people of the Kaluli Tribe in Bosavi relate to each other over the food that they consume together. Likewise, I feel that our convening on my back patio with the scent of apple-wood in the air helps to join our relationship on a very primitive level, like cave people gathered around a fire sharing a meal. It is in this spirit that barbecue, both as a cooking method and as a social gathering, helps to bring people together in a sharing of something that we have in common and is essential to our survival: eating food.
Here is my recipe for pulled pork:

Real Barbecue Pulled Pork
Recipe by Dave Lamsek

1 five-pound boneless pork shoulder (Boston Butt)
For the brine:
2 quarts water
12 oz (by weight) pickling salt
2 Tb dark molasses
1 Tb honey
For the spice rub:
1 Tb toasted cumin seeds
1 Tb toasted fennel seeds
1 Tb toasted coriander
1/2 Tb black peppercorns
1 Tb chili powder
2 Tb onion powder
1 pinch cayenne
1tsp garlic powder
Apple-wood and a smoker or charcoal grill (propane releases water vapor when burned, so this prevents smoke from penetrating the meat, so no gas grills!)

Brining a large cut of meat helps it to retain moisture during a long cooking process. By the power of osmosis, the salt in the liquid is forced into the cells walls of the meat and keep internal moisture from leaving. Not only does this ensure moist meat, but it ups the flavor level, as well.
Assemble brine ingredients in a large container (large enough to fit the pork and all of the liquid. Whisk to dissolve the salt. Place the pork in the brine, and lay a bag full of ice cubes on top of it to keep it submerged. Place in refrigerator or a cool place (replacing the ice as necessary) for at least 8 hours. After 8 hours, discard brine, and pat the pork dry (do not rinse).
To toast spices, place in a small skillet over medium-high heat. Cook until spices start to crackle. Remove from heat and cool before combining with the rest of the spices in a spice grinder (or old coffee grinder; don’t use your regular coffee grinder! Your coffee will be very spicy!).
Sift spices all over the pork, using one hand to pat the spice into the pork (“rub” is a bit of a misnomer…) making sure to cover the entire piece. Preheat your smoker (or prep your coals and hardwood) to 210 degrees Fahrenheit. Place the pork, fat side up (so it can self-baste) onto the grill rack; cover; replenish wood as necessary. After 10 hours, test for tenderness with a fork (it should shred away very easily with no resistance); continue cooking for up to another 2 hours if necessary. Remove from smoker, wrap in foil, and allow the meat to rest for about 30 minutes. Shred with a fork, and enjoy the fruits of your labor with the ones that you love!

Feel like makin' gnocchi?

When I think of the term “slow food”, I think about my experiences with a local Italian restaurant and its owners. It was no surprise, then, that I read with great pleasure Alison Leitch’s article Slow Food and the Politics of Pork Fat: Italian Food and the European Identity. This article dealt with the issue of trying to save certain historical aspects of Italian society while struggling to keep up with the speed of the modern world. The Slow Food Movement was created to cherish certain national delicacies that make a certain region unique. One such food item of interest is Lardo di Colonnata. This dish is essentially pickled pork fat, and was a central part of the diet of marble quarry workers in the area. Now, the government is trying to make it “safe” by requiring certain preparatory measures during its creation. These measures will render a homogenous lardo, and the town of Colonnata will lose its significance as being the best producer of this food.
This “anti-homogenization” of food is at the heart of the Slow Food Movement, and fast food is an easy target because of the chemically stabilized flavors that make a Big Mac taste like a Big Mac whether you are in Seattle or New York City. It is arguable that this Slow Food Movement is a corollary to going back to simpler times when people could truly slow down and enjoy a meal together.
As I mentioned in my introduction, there was an Italian restaurant literally half a block from my home called Il Ristorante. The owner, Angelo, and his brother were from Florence and wanted to offer some of their “comfort foods” to Seattle diners. My wife, Ericka, and I came to know Angelo after spending many evenings atop a bar stool in his Tapas Bar, and Ericka had fun trying to speak Italian with Angelo’s brother (who didn’t speak any English, but knew how to flirt like a teenager…). I decided to throw my wife a surprise birthday party a few years ago, and Angelo said that he would love to make a special dinner for our close friend’s and family. I will never forget him saying to me when I made the reservation: “Plan on being here for at least three hours. An Italian meal is more than just putting food in your mouth; it’s a celebration.” How right he was. We spent close to four hours grazing over six courses of amazing food with equally amazing Italian wine, and my wife had an absolute blast. The experience of slowing down and actually tasting every bite while we conversed and laughed and told stories was something that I have since tried to bring into our daily dining, even though our schedules’ are so hectic.
A few weeks after our fabulous Italian dinner, Angelo called us and asked if we would be interested in learning how to make the potato gnocchi that we were raving about. We jumped at the chance, and were soon wrist-deep in hot baked potatoes. There was no recipe, and Angelo said that he would make this dish a little different every time, to keep it interesting. This line of thinking falls right into place with the Slow Food Movement and its bucking of homogenized flavors. After making the potato dumplings and dropping them into boiling water, we switched out attention to the sauce that would turn these simple gnocchi into culinary gold. With a blend of gorgonzola cheese, sweet vermouth wine, nutmeg, butter, cream, and black pepper, we relished in the knowledge that we were taking whole ingredients and making a delicious sauce that was devoid of artificial flavorings or preservatives. It was very comical when we later told friends what we did the other night: “We went and made gnocchi with some Italian guys down the block…” Needless to say, we raised a few eyebrows when they would say, “Makin’ whoopee?”
After we finished assembling our handmade meal, we remembered the advice Angelo had given us before. Therefore, we slowed down. We drank some wine. We had a warm conversation. Most importantly, we took the time to make a fine meal and enjoy it among good company. Here is the “recipe” for making a gorgonzola cream sauce (obviously, there is no written recipe, so we’ve had to eyeball amounts in order to recreate this delicious dish):
Gorgonzola Cream Sauce
As adapted from Angelo’s Ristorante
1 Tb olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup cream
6 oz gorgonzola cheese
1/4 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
1 healthy splash of sweet vermouth wine

Add olive oil to sauté pan over medium heat. Add garlic and pinch of salt, cook for two minutes or until fragrant. Add gorgonzola and cook until half has melted. Add cream, nutmeg, and pepper, stirring constantly until bubbly and slightly thickened. Serve over fresh pasta or gnocchi; garnish with fresh basil chiffonade and more freshly ground pepper.

Water, water, all around...

“Eat all of the food on your plate! There are starving children in Africa!” This was a common statement from my sister when she would make dinner for me when I was very young and my parents weren’t home. Needless to say, for fear of being chastised or beaten by my older sibling (we’ve never gotten along very well, if you hadn’t noticed by now) for wasting food, I learned quickly to clear my plate and eat everything in front of me. While it was/is true that there were/are starving children in Africa, it wasn’t until many years later that I realized that there are people starving in our own community here in Seattle, as well.
I first became aware of the Magnolia Helpline while I was in Junior High School, and spent many days volunteering to help with food/supply drives in order to help our neighbors who couldn’t help themselves. Also, for my final service project (Eagle Project) that I needed to obtain the highest rank of Eagle Scout in the Boy Scouts of America, I worked with local grocery and pet stores to collect food, supplies, and money for the King County Humane Society, which then distributed these items to senior citizens and disabled people who could not afford to keep their pets. The project was a huge success, and I was amazed at how much pet food would have been wasted because of torn bags or dented cans and simply thrown-out by stores. When David Giles came to our class to talk about the organization that he volunteered for, Food Not Bombs, his modus operandi reminded me of how I was similarly able to provide for so many pets in King County. While I never climbed into any dumpsters (I don’t think the Boy Scouts would have approved!), the principle was the same, and I collected food that was considered “trash” by store managers and redistributed it to needy cats and dogs.
With estimates of up to 1/3 of all of the food produced in America being thrown-out, it boggles my mind how anyone in this country could go without. Our consumer culture is driven by the desire for the freshest and longest lasting food items, so we over-produce to ensure that these demands can be made. A point was made in class that our culture of supermarkets and suburban living have also influenced our buying habits; instead of going to the market daily for our needs, we go to the supermarket once a week and expect our food to last until we return the next week for more groceries. Thus, the banana that is ripe today will be of little use by next week, and will be subsequently thrown-out. Also, the stores stock an overabundance of food in order to lessen the chance that someone will shop elsewhere if they can’t find something there that they want. According to this business strategy, in the long run, it is cheaper to throw away food than to run-out and lose business.
After reading Janet Poppendieck’s article Want Amid Plenty: From Hunger to Inequality, I now understand better how government institutions have helped to regulate financial aid for the poor and have, in turn, prevented some of our own citizens from receiving the food and aid that they might desperately need. As my aforementioned experience as a Boy Scout shows, I was actively involved in collecting money and food for local food banks when I was young. As a matter of fact, I was actually directly involved in the 1994 Scouting For Food Drive that Poppendieck mentions in her article. Now that I know that my efforts in collecting donated food were a mere drop in the bucket to what is really needed to ensure that all of our citizens have a chance at proper nutrition, I am hopeful that programs like Food Not Bombs can raise the populace’s awareness to our neighbors’ needs. Even though I don’t want to be put on an FBI terrorist watch list, I think it is imperative that we get involved on a local level so that our fellow citizens will not have to choose between things like paying the rent or buying food to survive. As Mr. Giles mentioned in his presentation, “Food is a right”. Let’s see if the Boy Scout in me can take this motto and still make a difference.

The Power of Control

After reading the first few chapters of Ruth Ozeki’s novel All Over Creation, I began to wonder why we were assigned this book for a class on the anthropology of food. As the novel progressed, however, I began to see the significance of the plot in regards to the control of the American food supply. While I enjoyed the novel for its character development and vivid dramatic storytelling, I thought that its information on food science was nothing more than science fiction. While the quirky heroes of this story were “neo-hippies”, I figured that their wild ideas about food safety and bioengineering were nothing more than the product of Ozeki’s imagination. Wow. I have never felt so disturbed by the truth. After watching the documentary film The Future of Food, I became painfully aware of the frightening truth about our food supply. Who knew that we trust the production of our main agricultural crops to chemical companies, most notably Montsano, who has such a strangle hold on our farmers that they are essentially powerless in deciding the outcome of their own crops?
With connections to people in the highest offices of government (former Montsano associates such as Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas and former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, not to mention the head of the Environmental Protection Agency, among many others), Montsano has the political power and money to control not only the quality of the food that farmers grow, but also the value of that food in the marketplace. Agribusiness has taken over as the primary means for us to get our food. Since Agribusiness has the word “business” as part of its name, it is clear that businesses are in the business of making money. Whatever they can do to maximize profits and ensure the future profitability of their business is of the utmost importance to these companies.
The bioengineering that is occurring in our food supply raises more questions about its safety than it can offer answers. Whether making “Round-Up Ready” seeds that contain a gene that keeps them from being killed by weed killer or by engineering the truly frightening “Terminator Gene” that causes the seeds to go sterile after they germinate once, this tinkering with Mother Nature seems to be a bit like playing with fire. With the cover of government agencies saying that these bio-engineered foods are completely safe, we have to wonder why they have been banned in other countries such as the Japan and the countries of the European Union. When the Japanese government said that they would just sit back and watch American children for the next ten or twenty years to see if they develop health problems due to the ingestion of genetically modified foods, that should have raised a large red flag to the American population. I know now that when I go to the grocery store, I will specifically seek-out products that say “Non-GMO” on their labels. I really don’t like being a guinea pig for America’s chemical corporations to experiment on.
Likewise, as Michael Pollan comments on in his book The Omnivore’s Dilemma, changing the natural course of how organisms live in the world has drastic effects on our health, the health of domesticated animals, and the health of our environment. For example, the forcing of cattle to eat corn (because it is cheap and maximizes profits) instead of their normal diet of grass (which their bodies are uniquely designed to digest) causes undue stress to the body of the cow, and increases the amount of intramuscular fat in its meat. This, in turn, raises Omega 6 fatty acids, which counter the effects of the good Omega 3 fatty acids that grass-fed cows have more of. Pollan mentions that even farm-raised salmon are being fed diets of cornmeal to cheapen the cost of feeding. By doing this, he argues, eating salmon (which typically is very high in Omega 3’s) that is fed corn is actually higher in Omega 6’s and lower in Omega 3’s than a grass-fed piece of beef.
After learning about all of these disturbing things that happen to our food on the way to our plates, I have really tried to be more selective in my shopping choices. I try to cook from scratch whenever I can, and avoid the pre-packaged foods with the “50 different chemicals” ingredient list. In class, I loved the “Name That Food” game just from reading the ingredients list from a pre-packaged food item. How did our food supply come to this? Why are we filling our bodies with chemicals that the government says is okay for us to consume? In my opinion, it all comes down to cost, and with the power of the U.S. government to hide the facts from us, the average consumer has no idea about what they are putting into their body, and as long as it is cheap, they probably don’t really care, either.

Omnivore's Choice

After reading the chapter in Michael Pollan’s book "The Omnivore’s Dilemma" about the ethics of eating animals I was, frankly, surprised that the author was able to find so many reasons that made it (arguably) morally “okay” to choose an omnivorous lifestyle. In my experience, when someone mentions that they are a vegetarian, a long diatribe ensues on how horrible people are who choose to eat meat. Pollan actually offered some counter-arguments that actually had some philosophic basis to them. I chose to be a vegetarian when I was 15 due to a STRONG influence from my older sister who chose the vegetarian lifestyle the year before. When I say chose, I should really say that I was picking a lifestyle that prevented my sister from “mooing” whenever I ate a hamburger or chastising me for supporting the killing of innocent animals. At that extremely impressionable time in my life, I found it prudent to follow in my sister’s footsteps and stop eating meat. At first, I felt like I was really taking the “high ground” in terms of healthy living and not harming our fellow creatures on this planet. However, even with guidance on dietary issues (consuming a variety of legumes, nuts, etc. in order to obtain complete proteins and essential amino acids), I soon found that my health began to suffer. I did lose about 25 pounds, but a lot of that was muscle, and not just fat. I was sluggish and depressed, and had issues with strength and endurance. I lived as a complete vegetarian for 6 months. After consulting with my doctor, he recommended re-introducing chicken into my diet, and to up my vitamin C intake. I knew that the body loses certain enzymes required for the digestion of meat after not processing it for a few weeks, so I was concerned about the physical symptoms I might be experiencing in my digestive tract later on. I was assured that only meats with myoglobin (flesh that is red in color because of the processing of grass in the animal’s diet) would upset my digestive tract, and white meat animals, such as chicken, would not have the same effect on my body. I began eating poultry again, and within about 10 days I was feeling immensely better. I justified to myself that eating poultry was okay because most birds (especially domesticated chickens) were really stupid and had no idea how their lives would end. Not the most philosophical of viewpoints, but hey, I was only 15! So, at this point I was considered a “demi-vegetarian” (i.e: I would eat anything but red meat), and continued this lifestyle for another 9 years until I weaned myself slowly back on to red meat. Call me selfish, but I believe life is too short not to enjoy what I eat, and having a balanced array of foods (flora, fauna, and fungi) to eat allows me to stay healthy and enjoy my meals. I find that I am much happier when I eat a balanced diet, and I can rest in the knowledge that moderation is the key to healthy living. Am I part of the industrial “machine” that Pollan talks about in regards to the processing of animals for food? Yes, I am, but I have choices. I can choose to buy my meat directly from farms that are known for taking care of their animals up to and including the time of slaughter. After perusing www.eatwild.com (after reading about it in Pollan’s book), I have found farms as close as Sedro Whoolley that allow you to visit and see how their animals are treated, and you can actually purchase whole animals that they will butcher for you, or you can butcher yourself. At about $6 per pound for every cut of beef, this is an economic as well as a moral and healthy choice for choosing to be an omnivore. These animals are not only treated with respect, but they are naturally grass-fed and hormone and antibiotic free. After watching “The Meatrix” at www.themeatrix.com, and its sequels, I find that the choice of where my meat comes from makes a huge impact on my choice to eat meat. It is hard to support the modern “meat machine” once you know how things really work. What is the old saying? “If you don’t know how sausage is made, you shouldn’t ask.” Is ignorance really bliss in this circumstance? Are we that removed from the reality of the slaughter of animals for our consumption? Do we ever wonder why the press (and any member of the public, for that matter) are not allowed to see what happens in a slaughterhouse? These are questions that we need to ask ourselves before we slice into that juicy New York Strip or bite-off a chunk of Baby Back Pork Rib. As Pollan says, it is a decision that we shouldn’t take lightly, but as he illustrates with even a vegan diet, animals (and other life-forms) will die in the production of all our food. Field mice chopped in a grain combine, gophers being run-over by tractors, birds dying from ingesting poisoned insects; these are all examples of the trade-off between life and death that we face everyday, regardless if we are vegetarian or not. Pollan’s argument that our lives with domestic animals are symbiotic is, in my mind, quite true. The statistic about 50 million dogs and only 10,000 wolves in America helped to bring things into perspective. Also, the comments on freeing chickens and cows back into nature was rather striking, seeing that these species could easily slip into extinction without our protection. Humans are omnivores by nature (we have canine teeth for tearing meat and molar teeth for grinding vegetable matter), and if we choose our meat carefully and try to buy from reputable sources, I see no problem with enjoying the abundance that the earth has provided.