Taking your Grill-Skill from Tragic to Magic
4 Foundational Tips for Better Barbeque
We’ve all see it…the flaming hot dog, the carbon-crusted hockey-puck that was once a hamburger patty, the black-on-the-outside, frozen-in-the-middle steak that comes off the grill like saddle leather, only with less flavor…
I mean, how hard can it be?
MEAT + FIRE = GOOD…right?
So why do so many well-intentioned grillers turn so much good meat into bad food?
The tri-tip is a cut of beef from the bottom sirloin primal cut. It’s a small triangular muscle, usually 1.5 to 2.5 lbs.
In the US, this cut was typically used for ground beef or sliced into steaks until the late 1950s, when Otto Schaefer marketed it in Oakland, California.
Shortly thereafter, it became a local specialty in Santa Maria, California, rubbed with salt, pepper, garlic salt, and other seasonings, grilled over red oak wood, roasted whole on a rotisserie, smoked in a pit, baked in an oven, grilled, or braised by putting a pot on top of a grill.
Sweet chili sauce might be my all-time favorite condiment, and brisket is definitely in my top 3 favorite meats. So, a thought stuck me the other day, out of the blue, Hey, those two would be awesome together! And thus, this recipe was born.
Just got this email from Scott…
“Thanks for taking the time to read this! I have a quick question: We are roasting a 70 lb pig in a La Caja China Roaster.
My partners mother-in-law is Cuban and tells us that there is an old Puerto Rican recipe that calls for REMOVING the skin from the pig prior to roasting, then seasoning the meat, and placing the pig back “into” the now separate skin, then roasting as usual.
Now I am not a fan of this, but I figured I would ask if this is something you would suggest? I mean, might it dry out the meat?
Thanks – Scott”
Celebrate summer with my friends at Sears and win great prizes for dad!
Here’s a chance to win a Kenmore, a Hamilton Beach grill, grill accessories, or the Grand Prize, a trip for four to a professional baseball game of your choice PLUS a new grill!
Learn more at Grilling is Happiness, or enter on the Sears Facebook page
Enter now, and be sure to share this post!
Originally posted on May 30, 2012 by PN Ombudsman
Ty Pennington will join grilling and outdoor living authority Sears to heat up one of Chicagoland’s most beloved summer events, Ribfest, on June 30. From noon to 6PM, Ribfest attendees can experience demonstrations by Sears grilling experts, get a photo with Pennington, have a chance to get their grill on, and enter to win a grill and other great prizes.
I like to read about food.
Not just cookbooks, though I can spend long hours on the couch perusing those as well, but books about food, food history, and food culture.
Books like The Belly of Paris by Emile Zola, and The Apprentice: My Life in the Kitchen by Jacques Pepin have changed the way I look at food, and the respect I have for it, and the process that get’s it to my table.
The Nasty Bits by Anthony Bourdain (regardless of what I think of Tony, personally, it’s a fantastic book) and The Whole Beast, by Fergus Henderson, have sent me on a culinary adventure (usually flying solo, lol) far beyond the walls of sterilized, saran-wrapped “stuff marts” into a Wonka-esque world of offal wonderfulness.
Anyway, I like to read about food.
This recipe was inspired (and loosely adapted) from Patio Daddio BBQ’s amazing “Rattlesnake Tails” recipe. Make sure to check that one out, as well! Thanks John!
Anaheim peppers stuffed with a combination of hot (or sweet) Italian sausage (or chorizo, or even ground turkey), onions, and peppers, wrapped in bacon, smoked, then glazed with a honey butter barbecue sauce. Sticky sweet, spicy goodness…with a breath of fire.
If you’re not familiar with the BBQ Pinkie Clutch, you probably don’t eat a lot of good BBQ or Southern fried chicken. I’m sorry.
That makes me sad for you.
My family history being, as it is, from the South (“where the roots go deep and the branches don’t fork…”), I learned, at a young age, the correct techniques for eating a number of local delicacies with my bare hands, and the occasional garden tool. Having been transplanted to “the other coast” for many a’year now, I sometimes find that a few of those lessons have stuck with me.