Dave the Cook

The following is based on my experience (which relies a lot on luck, ignorance and living in the South). A lot depends on where you live and which varieties of plants you've got. I assume that you want to be able to harvest herbs all winter long, and I note the following with that in mind. I have found rosemary to be very hardy--maybe we get a different strain down here. It might gray out a little and/or get a little woody, but it will come back. It's practically indestructible. Thyme suvives cold pretty well, but if you get a lot of freezing weather, you might lose it. Same with sage, depending on the variety. There's a reason sage is associated with Thanksgiving, and I think survivability is part of it. You didn't mention it, but bay does very well. So do some types of parsley, though any of them will turn brown eventually. I think the marjoram is a goner, but it's closely related to oregano, so I could be wrong. It just seems kind of delicate. Again, maybe what we get down here is different.

Too much espresso?

My bad. Of course, you're right Nick. Wood ashes are alkaline, not acidic. But as you point out, this doesn't mean they can't be corrosive. You're also correct that they're more or less inert unless moist. But I live in a high humidity region, and I'm not always good about getting the grill covered. Lesser slobs may find this a minor issue. So far, there is no evidence of rust or other corrosion on the grill, except for the bolt holes.

HB, you ought to try it. It's a technique well worth checking out, and if you don't like it, you can always go back to the tried and true. Grill-roasting is also my method of choice--the depth of flavor exceeds both oven and frying. I go for just a little lightly-flavored smoke. Otherwise it's easy to end up with something that tastes more like ham, especially the dark meat, and more especially if you use a brine including sugar. Before John's post, I was going to say that the reason many people remark on the juiciness of the bird is because almost all recipes include an injection step. Seeing that John gets good results without injecting leads me to conclude that injecting creates a fallback position in the very likely event of overcooking. Deep frying is very efficient compared to an oven, and people don't believe how quickly the turkey is cooked, so they overdo it. To the other good technical/safety tips on this thread, I would add: don't forget the fire extinguisher, and don't make the mistake my brother-in-law made of thinking that a Polder-style probe is suitable for 350 degree oil. It's not. Fishing poles? Sprite?

You wouldn't think it would be that hard to do--there's no technology less than 15 years old involved. I haven't seen Nu-Temp. Are they on line?

The starter sauce I use is: 4 parts butter 2 parts pepper sauce (originally Tabasco, but see the thread on hot sauces) 1 part red wine vinegar This is the basis for almost all wing sauces and glazes, dating back to the Anchor in Buffalo. You will often see vegetable oil substituted for butter, other acids for the vinegar and somtimes a form of sugar or gum to help the glaze stick.

Grant, I think you may have hit on one of the few things that could be smoked successfuly on a Weber--and you can't really say it was the wrong cut if you liked the result! You haven't provided many details, but I gather the outcome was good. There are two problems with a Weber--one is size. I've done pork back ribs, but two slabs is the absolute limit, and even then, there's a good chance you're going to burn rather than smoke. The other problem is fuel access. Even the larger models that have the hinged grill are difficult. With the Char-Griller, you have four cast-iron grates that comprise the cooking surface. The other day, I just left two of them off. I had complete access the the fire on the right, while the meat sat on the two left grates. As I said before, you can slide in fuel through the side vent, but it's not really practical. This is where the side firebox comes in. As far as longevity is concerned, I am really just voicing my own apprehension, as I obviously have no long-term experience with the Char-Griller. But here are my impressions: Weber has a lot going for it in terms of design and construction. -The porcelain coating means the exterior of the kettle is practically maintenance-free. I have an eight-year-old 18" Weber that, from the outside, looks practically new--same for the four-year-old 22". - If you look at the rest of the externals, you've got aluminum legs and vents/ash-catcher, chromed steel bottom rack (and ash-catcher lever) and wooden handles. There's not really anything to rust, very little to come loose, and only the handles are likely to weather. Every spring I coat them with mineral oil, and that's it. I see that newer models have plastic handles, so even this is no longer a maintenance issue. - Inside, the only real concern is the grates. I've replaced the charcoal grates on both grills, and the cooking grate on the older grill. That's it, in twelve grill-years of use. I think that's pretty impressive. - As you've pointed out, cleaning a Weber is a pain. Which means it doesn't get done very often. Which means you end up getting some off tastes and smells. The Char-Griller is really a formalized version of a grill made out of an old oil-drum. - The exterior is painted steel instead of porcelain, and inside it's raw steel. It's obviously a hand-crafted product; flame marks from the welding are not brushed out, and while the welds are strong, not much attention has been paid to cosmetics in the way the welds are done. - The raw steel charcoal pan will have to be watched for corrosion; wood ashes are quite acidic. Again, the Weber doesn't have this problem. - It's got hinges, along with lots of nuts and bolts that will come loose from weathering and expansion/contraction due to cooking. The nuts and bolts are steel. I think they're galvanized, but in my experience, galvanizing just makes things rust-resistant, not rustproof. - On the plus side, the charcoal grate is incredibly easy to take out and hose off, and you can use a hose on the interior as well--it will drain through the vents. Just make sure you do it on a sunny day, or hand dry it, or I'm sure it will rust. - None of this has any bearing on its capacity for cooking--they put the money where it mattered. To draw an automotive analogy, the Weber is a nicely designed, refined product for the consumer market--say a Toyota or a Honda. The Char-Griller is a street machine that is one, maybe two, steps off the race track; it's got some manners, and you can handle it, but there's no mistaking where it came from, and it needs a little more TLC. Actually, I kind of like it that way. All of this to say that I expect the Char-Griller to require a little more upkeep. I need to take a wire brush to the bolt holes, where a little rust is starting to show (I haven't been studious about keeping it covered), and I need to dab a little Rustoleum on the nuts and bolts, then go around and tighten up everything. It's got wooden handles, but they're well finished, so I'll probably let them go until spring and see what they look like then. All told, probably two easy hours to bring it back up to spec, where the Weber would need practically no care at all. If I neglected the Char-Griller that way, it would probably need rebuilding in two years. But I won't, because I like the grill too much. I hope this is reassuring. I think the Colonel has had his longer (maybe Shiva, too). They may have more informed opinions. HdT, that's a very nice-looking unit. Right now I am very much into the ritual--call it the Church of Q, but I can see a time when I need a set it-forget it solution. Where did you get it? How much? BTW, Polder probes rule. Have you seen this one? Grant, a three-griller sounds like a blast. I've come close: last T-giving, we had a turkey grill-roasting on the big Weber, another turkey in a deep fryer, and the little Weber was doing squash, asparagus, sweet potatoes and the last of the Vidalia onions. You've got a lot of fun ahead of you!

Thanks everybody, for your help, and for your kind words. As far as I'm concerned, Carla puts it over the top. We need t-shirts! Either the brutal truth: pork butt rules or the mysterious and strangely eloquent: crunchy butt bark, yum If we don't use it on clothing, I may have to start a band, just to use the second one.

Grant: Is the small thing on the side the firebox? yes Is the main advantage that you can continually add coals and stuff without disturbing the main area and also getting more grill space? yes And if you're not smoking, can you use it as a straight grill too? If you mean the main grill, absolutely. It's really what I bought it for--to do 100 burgers and 120 dogs a night at the neighborhood swim meets. If you mean the firebox, I don't know, but it's an interesting idea. If I understood the Colonel correctly, the firebox is just their smallest grill with an attachement flange, but I may have that wrong. I haven't talked to Char-Griller yet. I do know that they occasionally put the grill (alone) on sale. I got mine for $100 at Lowe's, then later noticed that they were selling it through the web site for $165 including shipping. I think this is still a very good value. Right now, I just use an ancient Weber kettle which I'm sure this would be a huge upgrade from. I like my Webers, but they're impossible to smoke on, and the idea that you can really do two-level grilling with any appreciable amount of food (e.g., a 14-lb turkey) is wishful thinking, IMHO. Webers are great for steaks, chops, chicken, veggies, but once you have a bigger grill (with cast-iron grates), you probably won't go back. I do think a Weber would last longer. Shiva, I do the same: food on the left, fire on the right. It is possible to add charcoal through the side vent, though not a lot.

Better stock up on those little parasols.

In the best mojitos I've had, the mint is not explicit. It combines with the ice and alcohol fumes to create the effect of super-coldness without actually lowering the temperature. The complex sugar bomb of rum and syrup slides through on this vapor. You don't feel like you've actually had a cocktail so much as you breathed a quart of air transported from the arctic and released in the middle of a Cuban cane field. Since you didn't really drink anything, you have to have another. Sweet as love; as addictive as cocaine.

Anybody read this or its predecessor? Worth reading? The Far Side of Eden

I glad everybody enjoyed it. I had a lot of fun doing it. Since live radio died, the internet is the only way to do something like this. TV leaves nothing to the imagination, and it's only interested in BIG stories, anyway. For a while, I kind of felt like the kid trapped down in the well waiting to be rescued--what was the Woody Allen movie with that subplot? Radio Days? I remember real news stories like that from when I was a kid (showing my age, now), and despite the horror, apprehension, and trepidation that accompanies such stories, thinking about them makes me a little nostalgic. I tried to capture some of the tension and excitement that I remember. I wanted to keep it more timely, but the kids needed the computer for homework, of all things. I swear, our next PC goes in the kitchen. I agree that the water will not flavor the meat. But I do think it provides a temperature buffer, and the moisture it provides can't hurt, so why not? Unless it actually carries away surface moisture, like it does when baking a baguette. Is there a way to test this? I have another question. I thought pork butt and shoulder were synonymous--the analogue of beef chuck. Is this incorrect? And I am right (based on examination of the bone shapes) that "country style" pork ribs are actually sliced from the shoulder? Colonel, it's interesting you bring up game--to wit, venison. When doing a little research on trichinosis, I came across a report that said the last case of the Evil Worm reported was the result of undercooked cougar jerky, in the late 80s or early 90s. Anybody know of anything more recent? Now that I've got my feet wet, I'm anxious to try something else. I want to get my hands on that side firebox, too. How long will a butt take? Anyway, thanks again for all your help. You, too, Nick; I realize I neglected to mention you in the earlier post.

Funny you should mention that! My car burned to smithereens last weekend and to thank the firemen for doing such a fine job, I took them four coffeecakes. One of the firemen cut himself a piece, stuck it in his coffee mug and, just as you said, poured milk over and devoured it. And he went back for seconds. As you said, I was "grossed out". My grandfather did both of these, except he used buttermilk (back when it was really buttermilk) on the cornbread. My brothers and I still prefer coffeecake (and pound cake) saturated with whole milk.

Didn't know it had a name. This is great--I can use this. But then I have a question. What is the correct angle? Is it 90 degrees? Perfectly square quadrillage (see, I can flaunt it) seems so fascist...

Sorry to interrupt, but what is 'quadrillage'? Carry on.

I apologize for not posting this a lot sooner. I haven't been trying to keep you in suspense so much as I've been trying to keep my job. Occasionally I have to do a little work, or they'll wonder why they pay me. And now, The Final Chapter 8:45 There is a moment, when the table is set, the glassware sparkling, the silverware shining, the food mounted just so--moist or crisp or reposing in glory as is appropriate--a moment when you realize why you go to all the trouble. Which is why you then proceed to utterly destroy it in a matter of seconds. But first, Mrs. Dave looks around and wonders aloud where her wine glass is. Mr. Dave, who is sure he has not gulped 750 milliliters of wine alone, despite the tacit encouragement of one Mr. Gavin Jones, is strangely silent. The brisket is passed, with an explanation of the saucing possibilities. The girl goes immediately for the 'cue-sauced verison, as does Thing 2, otherwise known as the Younger Boy, who, despite a (short) lifetime of surprising ominvorousness, has lately displayed a preference for the utterly familiar. The more mature family members, being Mr. Dave, Mrs. Dave, and Thing 1, adopt a more adventurous attitude and take naked brisket. Thing 1, a high school senior who hopes to matriculate next year in a multi-disciplinary program featuring Detachment, Irony and Nonchalance, displays his usual flair for design by crafting perfectly circular dipping pools of the three sauces, and proceeds to work his way through a pound of meat that he has artfully terraced at the edge of his plate. I venture that the citrus sauce is not up to the job, but Mrs. Dave demurs, pointing out that I started with the bbq sauce (and, she does not say, a quart of wine), and this has probably destroyed my ability to render honest judgment over anything remotely subtle. She likes it, which is good enough for me. Thing 2 issues a blanket rating of the meal with his highest appellation: Awesome. Thing 1, clutching a brisket-laden fork, points to the chimichurri and blurts with uncharacteristic enthusiasm, "That stuff is good!" The Girl is silent, but this is because she has her mouth full. No fancy sauces for her--she's sticking with the tried and true. We finish up with Snickerdoodle ice cream. The table is cleared, and the Girl and I are cleaning up. I have wrapped the brisket in a tight envelope of plastic wrap, and transferred the sauces to storage containers. The sour cream will work for lightly spiced grilled chicken or fish--maybe even pork, if it's not too fatty. I'm still contemplating the future of the chimichurri. Mrs. Dave has suggested it as a spread for a baguette or pita, so it will show up at the table again. Thing 1 is dreaming up a chimichurri smoothie. Finally, I can bear it no longer. I ask the Girl. How was it? Was it what you expected? Was it what you wanted? Did you like it? Was it as good as you had in Texas? "Yes, Daddy. Thank you. It was better." My heart leaps. "It was?" "Yes. Your sauce was better." Must hide evidence. ---------------------------------------------- Thanks to Cathy, the Colonel, ChefJeff, Double 0, Dana and John the Haunted Chef. It wouldn't have been nearly as good without your help. Was it worth it? Oh yes. We're going for a pork butt next, and I've got my eye on some fresh andouille at the farmer's market. Besides, anybody who's ever had a daughter say "Thank you, Daddy," wouldn't doubt it for a second.

It's not over yet. 8:20 I've forgotten the barbecue sauce. If I do it now, it will delay dinner another 20 minutes just to assemble, not to mention that these things need some simmering time. Shit. Check the pantry. As Flip Wilson used to say, "in the booth in the back in the corner in the dark," I find a bottle of KC Masterpiece. Using my body as a shield, I safely transport it to the prep area and camoflage it behind tall flasks that contain rosemary and pepper oil, after squirting a half cup into a glass pie plate. I slice about 12 ounces of brisket across the grain, about an 1/8-inch thick, lay them on top of the sauce, then spread more sauce on top. Cover with foil, and stick in the oven, which is still on from the brisket. Mayo, cider vinegar and honey for the slaw. Taste, add salt, pepper and a little ground fennel left over from the rub. Set aside. I sliver some banana pepper and do a brunoise number on a red bell pepper. I toss with shredded red and green cabbage and carrots. Cover the bowl, back in the fridge, strategically set in front of the sequestered KC Masterpiece. I cut some more brisket and overlap the slices on a plate. I paint them with a little of the liquid (fat and gelatin, I think) that accumulated in the roasting pan. Cover loosely with foil and set in the oven next to the sauced brisket. Turn the oven off. The fries, now at room temperature, go into the fryer for five minutes. Slaw dressed and sent to the table, along with a basket of white bread. Brisket out of the oven. I dribble some sauce on the plain version. The pale orange and vivid green against the meat is striking. A few bushy cilantro leaves for garnish. Send both platters to the table with the rest of the sauces. Yank the fries, toss with a homemade seasoning salt (salt, white pepper, garlic, paprika) and dump into a basket lined with paper towels. Ring the dinner bell. Beer count: 5. The Shiaz is half-gone, but I am certain Mrs. Dave has been partaking. Surely. I am spent.

7:30 The brisket has been at or above 170 for two hours. Actually, it hit the wall at 184. I checked it with a fork, and it's not quite there yet; still getting some resistance. Taking Cathy's advice, I leave it in the oven. It will be done when it's done. Meanwhile, I've turned my attention to sauce. The standard barbecue sauce is OK, and that's certainly what the requestor is after--something sweet and tangy, some tomato, molasses, vinegar and a hit of heat. As I said before, I'd like something different, so I check out a few cookbooks. No one seems to have looked at this issue, and I suppose there's a good reason. The fact is that tomato and vinegar sauces work very well with the smoke and spice. It ain't broken, in other words. But surely, cultures besides ours spice and smoke meat. Finally, I get an idea from Steve Raichlen's Miami Spice. He has two sauces that are worth checking out. One is a citrus sour cream; the other is the Argentinian chimichurri. I'm thinking sour cream in terms of how it is used in some spicy Mexican dishes to cool the palate. The citrus, while a little iffy with the beef, might keep the cream from being too rich. The chimichurri sounds like a very good bet: lots of garlic, lemon and parsley--I'm reminded of Tuscan steak, where olive oil, lemon and garlic are applied to a steak right off the grill. I do the citrus sour cream almost by the book, but I substitute some tangerine juice for the orange juice. I found the juice in quarts at the farmer's market a few days ago and hadn't figured out what to do with it. This is reduced with lemon and lime juice, then whisked into sour cream and set aside to cure after a pinch of cayenne is added. The chimichurri offers a little more opportunity for customization. Traditionally, it is large amounts of curly parsley, lots of garlic, lemon juice and Spanish olive oil. The rub on the brisket has cumin, coriander and garlic along with several other things, so I think I can play off that. I substitute half the parsley for cilantro and give both a rough chop. I toast and grind some coriander and cumin seeds. Drop whole garlic cloves into a running food procesor, toss in the green stuff with lemon juice and the spices. Then drizzle OO (Italian is all I've got) into the feed tube. Raichlen suggests letting it sit for a couple of days, but, oh well. I put a pound of frozen Ore-Idas in the microwave, set it for five minutes at half power. I check the meat again. This time it is completely yielding. Out it comes. Except for its deep reddish-brown color, from across the room it looks like a hunk of tire shed by an 18-wheeler. Up close, it is encrusted and looks dry as a bone. I cut a corner off and taste. It's a little dry. I take the next slice. It is warm and tender and smoky, and though it's not explicitly juicy, it is richly moist. Oh boy. Stir up the fries and give them another five minutes. Turn on the fryer. Deer, I mean berr--beer count: 5. The Shiraz is open and flowing.

OK, you asked for it... 5:30 The brisket hit 170 degrees. I set the timer for two hours. Now I must turn my attention to the accompaniments (requested by the same person who wanted the brisket): sauce, french fries and cole slaw. For the sauce, I plan a fairly traditional tomato-based version, but maybe a little chunkier. It would be nice to have something kind of bright, since smoked meat always seems like a dark taste to me--or a baritone that needs some treble notes to stand out. I now wish I had halved some of the tomatoes sitting on the window sill and let them absorb some smoke while I had it. I will make this up as I go along. Usually when I am making a b-b-q sauce, it is for pork or chicken, not beef. I need to give this a little thought first, working off the ingredients in the rub. Fries: normally, since it's a weekend day, I would take the time to make from scratch: cut, soak, two fryings. But in the interest of convenience, I am thinking about a way to manipulate frozen fries on the 80/20 principle: can I get 80% of the pleasure of a from-scratch fry with only 20% of the work? Cole slaw: we'll go traditional here. Cabbage (green and purple), shredded carrots, slivers of red bell and banana pepper from the garden, mayo, cider vinegar and a little sugar. Wife called from her where she is working downtown. She and the girl are headed to the other side of town to drop off girl's erstwhile BF. They will not be here for at least two hours, given that the football game jsut ended, and they will have to negotiate the traffic. It's actually good that they're running late. At this rate, we won't sit down to eat until 9:00. Beer count: stopped at 5. Excusable Extraordinary Beer Consumption License expired with onset of heavy rain and evacuation of the brisket. Had a big glass of lemonade, and noticed a magnum of Yellow Tail Shiraz lurking in a corner of the kitchen. May open that.

This is true. I quit tending bar before the 'tini craze, but in five years behind the counter, I never had a customer order one. Try it and you'll see why. Putting the gin in the freezer is a great idea.

4:25 Ladies and gentlemen, the brisket has left the building. In the face of heavy rain accompanied by thunder and lightning, we had to abandon the grill. Tending the fire had become impossible. The meat now reposes in a 250 degree oven, with an internal temperature of 149 degrees. My assumption, based on Goddess of the Smoke Cathy's criteria, is that the meat was not going to accept more smoke, anyway. The roast has developed a beautiful crust, and exudes a characteristic smoky redolence. The entire house now smells like the best parts of Memphis and Kansas City. Now we're waiting for conclusion of Cooking Process 2: collagen->gelatin development. I will cook the brisket to an internal temp of 170, then call it done at two hours past that point. By then, I expect a certain level of tenderness will have been achieved. Since this has now turned into a rather ordinary project, I will discontinue the diary, unless there is an unexpected public outcry. Thank you for your support.

3:00 Returned from auto retrieval trip through pouring rain. Fire was practically out, though it might have gone out rain or no rain. Oven temp 135. Certainly the water covering the grill did nothing to help maintain heat. I check the meat temp. It is 145, so out of the danger zone. I'm not too concerned about bugs, since we're headed for about 170, and will try to maintain this for two hours, but I'd rather not have to think about it. I set up another chimney's worth of charcoal. Usually, I set the chimney on top of an overturned galvanized bucket. However, the bucket is wet. I retrieve another foil pan and set it upside down on top of the bucket, and set the chimney on that. While the charcoal works, I tidy up a bit, then remove the temp probe from the meat. Juice gushes out. Quickly replace probe and cap gusher. Now I will have to rely on the grill's thermometer, since I seem to have left my oven thermometer at my Mother's. I have been observing the grill indicator throughout, trying to get an idea of its accuracy. It lags about 10 minutes, and is accurate +/- about 35 degrees. however, in the target zone, it has been reliably ten degrees below the probe temperature, so at least I have some guide. I pick up the chimney to deposit the charcoal in the grill and see that the charcoal has burned through the foil pan. Wow! I can't remember the melting point of aluminum, but it is pretty damn high. Closed grill after rotating now permanently probed meat. With fire back on track and no more errands to run, check the time. It is beer:30.

Nina's correct. A Gibson is gin, dry vermouth and an onion. A Gimlet is gin and lime juice (traditionally Rose's, which adds some sugar to the mix). Very tasty. Very dangerous. Nina, aren't you going to tell us how it turned out?

1:45 Looks like rain. beer count: 3