I am feeling a little guilty. I am sitting in The South typing up a post about BBQ from a recipe in a French cookbook.
I guess it is a good "thang" that I am a "New Yorker" and no one would suspect that I am sitting here writing about ribs. Because, I am as sure as the day is long that if I were caught, I would be unceremoniously be shipped back to where I came from. Or placed under house arrest.
I am smart enough to know that there are somethings outsiders shouldn't roll into town and try to mess with. Chili. Chicken Fried Steak. Biscuits & Gravy. BBQ.
Chili gets made with beef. Not chicken. Not turkey. Not vegetarian.
Chicken fried steak. Is what is is. But it better come along with a side of white gravy.
Bicuits & gravy - must also bear that same white gravy. Because it is so. If you don't like it. Don't eat it. (Whew - so glad to be off the hook on that one... My Northern sensibilities can't quite handle this heavy, beloved fare. Can I have a salad????)
Oh. And the BBQ. Beef. Spice rub. Throw it into one of those black, barrelly smoker thingys. Sauce - well, that depends on the cook, I guess. I am sure there is room for pork somewhere. But apricot jam & Coca Cola. With Ginger and Chinese Five Spice? Bake it in the oven? From a French cookbook???? Heresy of all heresies. And I am pretty sure it doesn't involve Pyrex... Just sayin'
And that's ok. Because I think regions need their traditions. And flavors. Things that make them unique to the rest of the country/ world. Because if everyone were alike, why would we ever need to get out there and see the world? Or try new things? And how boring would we all be???
Wow. That's kind of a scary thought.
So in the name of world diversification, I would like to buy the world a Coke. And use it to make ribs. But SHHHH, don't tell anyone. At least not until I am on an airplane headed back to the "Safety Zone". Then you can tell.
So, let's talk about the ribs. First of all - time is your friend. Let them marinate over night. Bake 'em slow and easy. Don't forget to flip-n-baste. But be patient. And don't cheat. Use The Good Stuff (Coca Cola - not the "P" word). And everyone knows that the first rule of ribs is: fingers only. This isn't dainty fare.
Serve them along side a mac salad (well, at least that's what I did) or your favorite "backyard" fare... Because at the end of the day, you are the one eating it - so whatever floats your boat and all that...
This post participates in French Fridays with Dorie. Come check out the ribbin' the rest of the crew has been up to!