To its diehard devotees, barbecue is less a hobby than a way of life. Competitive pitmasters travel a nationwide circuit in pursuit of personal glory and pit-cooked perfection. But for civilians, barbecue is a meal. A store-bought sauce will often suffice, despite the purists’ faith that barbecue can’t come from a bottle.
But even a purist would agree that in the absence of the “real thing,” manufacturers of barbecue sauces, rubs and prepared barbecue meals can deliver the best convenient ’cue possible—when armed with the right ingredients, technology and a firm grasp of barbecue fundamentals.
Low and slow
Barbecuing and grilling are not synonymous. The latter burns hot and cooks fast, searing thin foods over high, direct heat in a matter of minutes to char the surface and leave the center relatively tender, and sometimes quite rare.
Barbecue is all about low and slow. Large, collagen-rich cuts cook at a smolder for hours in pits or smokers whose indirect heat—often from an offset firebox—warms the surrounding air and imbues the meat with the flavor of smoke. “You need a certain temperature to convert those heavy connective tissues to something that’s more succulent,” says Stephen Giunta, CMC, culinary director, Cargill Meat Solutions, Wichita, KS. “And this doesn’t happen quickly.”
Kell Phelps, publisher, National Barbecue News, Douglas, GA, notes that temperature is the key to good ’cue. “The thermometer tells you everything you need to know,” he says. “That’s the whole secret of barbecue.” The typical range stretches from about 200 to 275°F (compared to a grill’s surface at 700°F). “Your job as a cook is to render the fat out of the meat and get that meat to an internal temperature,” he says. “If you’ll slow that down and give a little bit of time for the fat that’s rendered to trickle around a little before it just drops out, you’ll have more flavor in your meat.”
In time, as fat renders, collagen melts into gelatin, and smoke permeates the fibers, the meat turns flavorful, luscious and fork-tender.
How much time? Giunta says that to raise meat’s internal temperature to 150°F, you’ll need about six hours of cooking at 180 to 220°F per every two inches of thickness. “But it’s not so much the cooking to an internal temperature that’s important,” he says. Rather, it’s the uniformly tender texture that such cooking creates. “In barbecue, you’re not trying to get a medium-rare center, or a moist, juicy center,” he says. “You’re trying to get the product—from top to bottom, all the way through—one texture.”
When moving from the pit to production, manufacturers have a number of tools at their disposal to help them create excellent barbecue. Vacuum tumbling cuts marination time, and injection permits even distribution of marinade. Also, grill, smoke and other flavors help replicate the flavors of the pit. Finally, combination ovens—using both steam and heat—deliver a consistent product.
Smoke signals
“A lot of people will fuss and argue about using gas or electric smokers,” Phelps says, but “as long as it’s got real wood flavor, it’s authentic.” Hickory, pecan, maple, alder, apple, cherry, cedar and mesquite make most pitmasters’ greatest-hits lists, depending on what they’re barbecuing, and where.
Phelps often cooks with pecan, which is plentiful in his state of Georgia. “It’s actually a member of the hickory family,” he says, “which is a mild smoke. So, if I can’t get pecan, I’ll get hickory, and it’ll be very similar.”