Fred Parker on mon 26 jun 06
On Sun, 25 Jun 2006 11:03:01 -0400, Lili Krakowski
wrote:
>SNIP>
>Somehow I think color may well have been obtained by rust, verdigris, and
>the like, rather than by careful weighing out of colorants.
When I moved away from my childhood home in the Deep South I also left the
best barbecue in the world. Of course, I did not know this at the time.
I had to sample the barbecue from other regions to understand "barbecue"
means something of a mindset -- not a recipe.
After a few years of deprivation I decided if I could not have the
authentic barbecue I craved, I would fabricate a close facsimile on my
own. I began with a made-up cooking procedure and recipe set. I had
nothing to go on other than memories of peeks into the kitchen where I
caught glimpses of different cooks at work -- and the huge pile of hickory
wood outside. The procedures and recipes I used at first were
sufficiently complex, I guessed, to deliver the subtleties of flavor I
remembered.
The first test failed miserable. So did the second, and third and so
on... But I noticed I was getting closer. I also noticed the changes I
was making were changes toward simplification -- not toward greater
complexity.
Then, somewhere in the midst of that long testing process, I purchased and
managed a retail business -- not in the food industry. That was the
single most dramatic epiphany of my career. One of the most glaring
revelations during my first year of operations was that simplicity works
and complexity fails. (OK. So I'm a slow learner...) I remembered the
barbecue cooks I saw at work in years ago and finally connected the dots.
The barbecue I sought was a result of the right meat, the right wood and
the right cooking time/temperature. It wasn't about culinary subtlety;
nor was it about the cook's expertise and experience because, like my
employees, barbecue cooks come and go with no warning and no provocation.
It had to be simple; otherwise, there would be no barbecue the day after
the cook got hauled off to jail for whatever reason, and the restaurant
would have closed long ago. It had to be simple and straightforward.
SO, my next test was just that: a very slow hickory fire, a boston butt,
some very simple basting liquid to maintain moisture over a very long
cooking time. In other words, the obvious.
The result was exactly what I was looking for. I have even been told it
is better than the original.
There have been many other dishes I have wanted to copy. For many, I have
succeeded by using the "simplicity" formula that worked for the barbecue:
reduce to the lowest common denomenator and keep it simple. Do it the way
a small restaurant would... It leads me to conclude that there is some
kind of universal Truth -- like the links between space and time -- that
govern good results, except these links are between simplicity and
success.
All of this to agree with Lili's observation that "...color may well have
been obtained by rust, verdigris, and the like, rather than by careful
weighing out of colorants. In my very short, but obsessive, venture into
glaze making I have noticed that some very nice glazes come from simple
formulas -- and simple combinations. It's certainly no guarantee, but
it's what makes spring water clear...
Fred Parker
Down South, occasionally reeking of hickory smoke
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