Chef Ben Says: Cook Ribs Like a Boss
Can you smell it? That magic aroma of spring. An assertive breeze pushes around the last aromas of winter, and mixes in the fresh new smells of mulch and petrichor. Even the smell of lighter fluid burning off of a pile of Kingsford briquettes evokes memories of the taste of warm weather. Don't get me wrong, lighter fluid and Kingsford are strictly forbidden in my cooking operations, but they sure have a distinctive smell. Grilling season has arrived.
I hate to discuss "grilling season" as though there's a time of year that I stop cooking outside, because there isn't. There is no denying, however, that little plumes of smoke from various shapes and sizes of grills up and down the street is an unmistakable sign that warm weather is nearly upon us.
The inspiration of the season is obvious. Now, the question is "what to cook?" Is there something I can put on this grill that will give me some time to get these leaves raked up, while giving me enough to do to satisfy my inner BBQ Pitmaster? For the perfect combination of lazy and fussy, look no further than the cornerstone of American barbecue, the St. Louis style rib rack.
Of all the cuts of all the critters you can put on the grill, I see the most pain and frustration going into ribs. Because of their very nature, ribs are full of sinew and chewy bits that are holding the bones together. When cooked properly, all of those chewy bits melt down into the lip-smacking, tender, succulent bites that any barbecue lover can understand. I have seen an incredible number of laborious methods to achieve this tenderness. Boiling, steaming, and braising are often used as a crutch to provide a tender bite, then slapped on the grill to provide some flavor after it was all just boiled out. While these methods may get you a consistent texture, most come at a huge sacrifice of flavor.
There is an easier way. I have spent a fair amount of time fussing and formulating with rib recipes, trying to achieve a consistent "unicorn" rib. The one that is perfectly bite-through tender, with an assertive pork flavor, bedazzled with hints of spices, and lovingly glazed with just enough sauce to make them shiny. Enough already, lets get this going.
First and most critical: prepare your barbecue to run at 225 degrees for about 3 hours. I don't have time or space to detail how to achieve this on every grill out there. If you want to cook ribs, you're going to need a total of about 3 hours at 225 in the presence of smoke. Figure it out. Charcoal grills and smokers work best for this, but a gas grill can be adapted to make decent ribs.
This is my weapon of choice. A Primo XL Oval 400. Provides steady temperatures over 12 hours, and doesn't care about wind, rain or snow. Truly a beast of a bbq. I'm going to make sure it's clean, and that I have plenty of hardwood lump charcoal on hand, as well as some wood chunks, and my favorite lighter.
The charcoal/grill manufacturers probably wouldn't sign off on my MAPP gas plumber's torch as a grill lighter, but I find that it works better than anything else I've used. 30-45 seconds in one spot will yield a small controllable fire that will burn for hours.
For a quicker cook, like ribs, one lonely little hunk of apple or cherry wood is all I need to give a perfect amount of smoke for the 2-3 hours that we are going to need to cook.
These plates turn the Primo from a grill into a smoker. On traditional charcoal grills or gas grills, you're going to have to set up a heat source on one side, and a cooking space on the other.
Ready to rumble. Don't forget to use a pan, or some foil to keep your perfectly rendered fat out of your grill, or you're going to incinerate the next thing you cook. Time to close the lid and adjust the vents until I reach my 225-250 degree butter zone.
Alright, we've got heat, now it's time to see about some meat. Ribs come in several varieties. Each one has it's own special characteristics, that I'll address in a later post. For today's purposes, we're going with the St. Louis spare rib. You're going to need to pick up a couple of racks of spare ribs. A St. Louis spare is a pork sparerib with the "tips" cut off. With their increased popularity, many places have them already cut down into tidy little packages. We're going to do it ourselves.
Stuff you need to get together:
2 racks pork spareribs, as close in size as possible, they will be about 4 lbs a piece
A crazy stupid sharp boning knife, and a large plastic or wooden cutting board
A small bottle of yeller mustard. Don't get fancy, I said yeller mustard
4 tablespoons Lea & Perrin's Worcestershire sauce. Don't cheap out, I said Lea & Perrin's
1 cup Barbecue rub. Don't overthink it, there's about a billion different ones out there, pick one (if it's killing you, if I'm not making my own, I buy Smokin' Guns Sweet Heat Rub)
Unwrap your ribs and start by removing any superficial fat just laying there. Don't worry about folks that say you need the fat to keep them moist. There's so much intramuscular fat in there, we're going to spend most of the time on the grill trying to cook it out.
"Square up" the ends of the rib racks by trimming off the scraggly ends. If you save trim, it will make great sausage sometime.
Locate the seam between the top of the rib bones, and the tip portion (it's a pretty well defined line on the bottom of the rack).
Cut off the tips. There are some pretty gristly tendons in there, but a good sharp knife will cut right through.
Clean as a whistle. Now the ribs can cook much more evenly. I'll show you how to cook the tips sometimes. They can be quite delicious, but you have to chew around the little hunk of cartilage in them. another day.
Lastly, pull the membrane. That thick papery sheet over the surface of the bones. Once you get it underneath it with your knife, you should be able to peel it right off. It takes a little practice to get it off perfectly clean every time.
Schmear both sides of the rib racks with mustard and worcestershire. We're making progress.
I like to use a little rub to get going, and rub it into all of the crannies. Then I put on a thin, even layer with a shaker, no rubbing this time. This really enhances appearance.
OMG!!! Is it finally time to cook?!? Stop whining, while it took a lot of explanation, The whole process up to here took me 15 minutes. Remember, we're taking the roughest cut of meat there is and making it into magic. It's going to require a little witchcraft.
Put the ribs on the cooker in a spot that they are going to be at that critical 225-250 degree zone. If your grill does it's job, you are now able to walk away, plant some petunias, drink a beer, whatever. Just don't open that lid for at least an hour.
If your ribs look like this after the first hour, you're looking strong. Check them for any char from a hot spot, or any bones starting to show on the sides. Simply move the racks around to make sure you're cooking evenly. Then shut the lid and give them another 30 minutes or so. No peeking, "lookin' ain't cookin'".
This is a good time to put together your "wrap juice". Remember when I was telling you that boiling, braising, or steaming your ribs sucked the flavor right out of them? I'm going to show you how to make sure that doesn't happen. In a jar with a tight fitting lid, combine the following:
1/2 cup apple juice (I have actually been using black cherry juice lately, but it's not easy to find)
2 Tablespoons Lea & Perrin's worcestershire
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup barbecue sauce
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
Other things you'll want handy:
a few more tablespoons barbecue rub
a fresh roll of Reynold's Heavy Duty Aluminum Foil (you'll thank me when it doesn't leak)
The single most important lesson in barbecue is to test for doneness. I'm pretty sure ribs are such a mystery for so many folks because you can't poke them with a thermometer. All of the doneness cues are tactile and visual. See how the meat on these racks is pulling tight, and the bones are just starting to poke through on the backside? That means we're ready to wrap.
Tear off 4 sheets of foil approximately 3 feet long and stack them in two stacks of two. From here on out, work quickly, so the ribs don't cool off. Put a rack on each foil stack. curl up the edges into a "boat" shape, and pour half of the wrap juice into each one. Carefully seal up the foil around the rib racks, taking care to wrap them as tight as you can with no air inside.
"But Chef, aren't we braising now?" Well, yes, technically we are. But this method is pretty modified, specifically designed to enhance big bbq flavor, while providing that wet environment we need to achieve optimal tenderness. Put your foil packs back on the grill, and give them an hour in the wrap.
Time to check for doneness. Grab one of the racks with your tongs and gently lift up the end. They should be very flexible. If the bones are popping out about a half an inch, as in the pic on the left, you have what we call in the barbecue world, "money". Set the table, we're eating in 30 minutes.
If doneness is the most important part of good barbecue, sauce is the least important. Don't get me wrong, lousy sauce tastes lousy, but if everything else is correct, the sauce is nothing but a little shine. I like to mix the drippings from the foil packs about 50/50 with sauce of choice. Cattleman's Original is a good neutral choice. Baste it lightly on the rib racks, close the lid, and let it set up about 15 minutes.
After a 15 minute rest, it's time to cut. Flip the ribs bone-side-up on a cutting board. With a long, painfully sharp knife (otherwise you'll smoosh and shred, not good bbq) cut between the bones. It takes a little practice to get these cuts perfect.
Pile them up on a platter, serve up some slaw, break out the beans, and get to work. If there's a clean hand or mouth in the place, you've messed it up.
Cheers,
Chef Ben