BBQ Class: Learning From A Master

BBQ Class: Learning From A Master

Posted on March 4, 2012 by brooklynq

 

One of the earliest cookbooks I purchased that was completely barbecue related was Paul Kirk’s Championship Barbecue Sauces. It’s still one of my favorites and one I turn to often.

One of the reasons I enjoy Paul’s book is that it’s not just a “here’s a recipe – make it,” cookbook. This book is much more of a teaching and motivational cookbook. Yes, I can call him Paul. We’ve known each other for years. I, along with Matt Fisher and Andrew Fischel of RUB brought Paul to NYC way back on October 21, 2006 for his first ever cooking class in New York

Chef Kirk comes to the forefront in this book. Chef Paul the mentor is ever present on every page. While he does provide “recipes” a lot of the book is dedicated to technique. He provides a list of ingredients and then walks you through the steps to create. What flavors work together? Which oppose each other. How do you get the combination that achieves the flavor profile your’e seeking? This book walks you through all of that and it’s very much how Paul teaches his class.

When Paul was in NYC back in 2006, Matt and I teamed up to create a rub that would be used throughout the class on chicken, ribs and pork shoulder. Paul opened up his magic spice rack and laid out about 70 different herbs, spices, salts and peppers for us to taste. After tasting the spices, we started to devise a rub. The first task was to put it all down on paper. We had to write out precise measurements of each seasoning we were going to use. Once that was done, Paul would critique each creation.

Matt and I approached the Baron of Barbecue and waited in anticipation for Paul’s comments. He read over the list, which I wish I Still had, and made a couple of recommendations, “add more of this.” or “loose that.” But one line stayed with me to this day, “You Yankees sure love your Bay. It’s not a barbecue spice and I wouldn’t use it, but hey, it’s your rub.”

A little disappointed with the Baron’s comments, Matt and I returned to our table and mulled over Paul’s remarks. Matt and I mulled it over for a while, should we take out the Bay (ground dried bay leaf)? I like the flavor of Bay. Matt liked the flavor of Bay. We went back and forth with it for about 15 minutes before we finally said “Fuck it. Leave it in.” We mixed up the rub, tasted it and were pretty please with ourselves.

So we mix up the rub, season up some ribs and smoke them. Nervously we present a rack of ribs to Paul for review. He looks at them and declares them under-cooked. (Let me explain something here. He didn’t mean that they were still raw. He meant that they hadn’t reach that perfect spot where you could bend the rack together so that the ends almost touch, without the meat breaking.) Paul took a couple of bites, said the rib had a good texture. He put the rib down, wiped his hands and mouth and finally declared, “Pretty good rub.”

Even with expert advice, sometimes it’s best to just follow your gut. Matt and I defied the advice of the Baron of Barbecue and created a rub that pleased even him. Trust your instincts. I remember another time in creating a rub where I added ground up chocolate sprinkles. Damn that was a good rub. The chocolate added just the perfect amount of depth that rub needed.

So what’s the moral of this story? Go – play with your food.

RUB BBQ: Lovers of the ’cue can regain a sense of down-home at this Chelsea locale



No bones about it, New York is not a barbecue town. Don’t let poser pit crews in their PR outfits bamboozle you with lies.

If there is good barbecue to be had in this city, it has been removed from its natural habitat. Like a Texas cowboy come to New York to prostitute his body, barbecue gone North has been estranged from its essential self. Barbecue is about knowable communal activities—gathering ’round the smoker, taking shifts turning the coals, putting together parish-wide buffets and picnics. It is an art of the countryside, a vestigial organ of the American pastoral, a wild sentiment domesticated in the suburbs, a real figment of the American moral imagination, a rural fantasy made material. It is a Gary Snyderian experience—like a smoke haze, three days of heat after five days of rain, swarms of new flies, drinking cold snow-water from a tin cup. It is anathema to the soot and despair of city living.
In New York, the barbecue restaurant invokes country living but, in the end, everything feels too smoothed and polished, too damn commercial. When I eat at Hill Country or Dinosaur Bar-B-Que or Blue Smoke, I enter with the wrong expectations and leave disappointed. The only way to enjoy New York barbecue, as it has been institutionalized, is to expect Universal Studios and smile, anesthetized, at ugly food and people at their ugliest.

If I had a dollar for every bad rib I’ve eaten here and every time I had dinner while people sat there drunk, I’d catch the next train back to where I live. I grew up in St. Louis, where barbecue happens in backyards. We threw down pork shoulders in oil can smokers and brewed sauce in big kettles. An authentic and genuine barbecue experience requires the “we,” the instantiation of creative energy in a communal task. Barbecue must be a live issue for the people involved: It must always really matter. That is why RUB BBQ is my favorite restaurant in New York. RUB is New York’s only sincere barbecue joint, the only spot where the anonymity of city life slips into an ecstatic rejoinder of recognition.

In 2005, Andrew Fischel started RUB BBQ. It’s half-acronym—the name means “Righteous Urban Barbecue.” Executive Chef Paul Kirk is in the Barbecue Hall of Fame, which is all you need to know about the quality of ’cue coming out of the kitchen.

Current Pit Master Scott Smith keeps the RUB smoker moving smoothly. He has the touch of a master craftsman. I imagine his hands are supple from stroking many sides of pastrami. He certainly has quite a way with a rack of ribs.

Although you can eat your way down the menu without any prior preparation, a savvy ’cue connoisseur approaches a visit to RUB as a question of strategy. It’s imperative to arrive early in the evening. RUB cooks a discrete quantity of meat each day, so it tends to run out of more popular menu items (burnt ends, I’m talking about you). Go with a good group. I define a good group as four fellow meat eaters, all without qualms about finger sucking or otherwise insanitary food sharing practices. Order meat by the pound and sides in the large size. Eat until you feel ill, then eat until it feels good again.

False prophets preach of “fall-off-the-bone” ribs. RUB’s ribs adhere to the competition standard: meat that yields without resistance to the tooth but remains attached to the bone.
Pulled pork, drizzled with RUB’s tangy house sauce, makes a nice sandwich folded up in white bread with pickles. Or try the pastrami, moist and smoky like a Turkish bath. It, like in “Portnoy’s Complaint,” speaks “of prehistoric times, earlier even than the era of the cavemen and lake dwellers that I have studied in school, a time when above the oozing bog that was the earth, swirling white gasses choked out the sunlight and aeons passed while the planet was drained for Man.”
As for side dishes—don’t miss the beans. They’re the most sublime legumes ever tasted—and, contrary to Pythagoras’ advice, I’ve eaten many a baked or barbecued bean in my time.
Burnt ends, though, are the best thing to eat at RUB. They are Satan’s McNuggets. They are little charred parcels of sweet beef fat and pink brisket. They are psychotropic: eyes-rolling-back-in-your-head-foaming-at-the-mouth crazy delicious. During live performances of “Born to Run,” Clarence Clemons (may he rest in peace) would, at the song’s climax, cover Bruce Springsteen’s ears as though to protect him from the wall of sound. Experiences of such profound and excessive beauty are too much for the human body to bear.

What is the purpose, the vocation, the destiny of RUB in the universe of New York barbecue? As Springsteen once evangelized: “To reeducate ya to resuscitate ya to regenerate ya to reconfiscate ya to recombobulate ya to reindoctrinate ya to resexualate ya to rededicate ya to reliberate ya, with the power and the glory with the power and the glory with the promise with the majesty with the mystery with the ministry of...” barbecue.

I came into town, a one night stand—looks like my plans fell through. Oh, Lord, stuck in New York again. At least I finally found a barbecue spot that reminds me of home. RUB cannot replicate barbecue’s native ecology. It does, however, come close enough to provoke a real reflex of pleasure. Cue gratuitous fist pumping, shirt waving, crawling over security guards onto the smoker to swipe a single drop of holy sweat, a variety of religious experience in no way inferior to pure rapture.

Warning: Measure Your Salt

By EDWARD SCHNEIDER

Tony Cenicola/The New York Times

I was a Diamond Crystal baby. Diamond Crystal kosher salt was the only salt my mother used, the only one I knew as a child. Now, half a century later (yikes!), it remains the salt I reach for first — although I now have to fish for it among half a dozen that sit on the shelf. All those fancy sea salts, however, are used to finish dishes or added at the table, where their varied textures are a source of tactile delight. For cooking, I rarely use anything but the kosher salt of my childhood; I can judge, by eye and by feel, how much I need for any task from making a well balanced vinaigrette to seasoning a steak.

I always knew that Diamond Crystal was far less dense than table salt and that it was easily crushed between the fingers. I had a vague idea that these qualities resulted from the unusual shape and fragility of the crystals. The shape meant that in each handful, tablespoonful or pinch there was more space between grains of salt — hence, less salt. The fragility meant that a quick rub of the thumb and forefinger could “grind” the salt for, let’s say, quicker dissolving.

I’d always assumed that other kosher salts were the same. But one day, my supermarket ran out of the Old Reliable and I bought a box of Morton’s. Suddenly, I lost my knack for getting the salt spot-on: everything was oversalted. Everything. Pound cake tasted like something you might serve with pot roast, and pot roast tasted like the barrel-preserved meat served on HMS Bounty. For heaven’s sake, the spaghetti was too salty — I was over-dosing the pasta water.

Even when I figured out what was going on, I couldn’t get it right, which is an interesting if somewhat depressing reflection on the force of habit. And what was going on was this: Morton’s kosher salt is made by a different process, and each unit of volume (cup, teaspoonful, etc.) weighs nearly twice as much as the equivalent volume of Diamond Crystal — and hence contains nearly twice as much salt.
Ordinary table salt is typically made by taking the water out of brine in a series of evaporating pans; its crystals are cubic in shape (remember looking at it through a microscope in science class?). To manufacture its kosher salt, Morton’s runs such salt between rollers, which results in a thin, coarse flake.

By contrast, Diamond Crystal kosher salt is made using a particular open pan evaporating method (the Alberger method, just so you know) which results in handsome hollow pyramid-shaped grains. This hollow structure accounts for the salt’s lightness, and the thin walls of the “pyramids” for its crushability.

So I got out a one-cup measure and a scale, and I weighed similar volumes of Morton’s and Diamond Crystal kosher salts, plus regular table salt, generic coarse sea salt and Malden sea salt from England (included for no reason other than that I think it is the most beautiful of salts). Here’s the outcome, rounded off to the nearest five grams or eighth of an ounce (no, this is not a scientific inquiry):

Morton’s kosher: 250 grams (8 3/4 ounces)
Diamond Crystal kosher: 135 grams (4 3/4 ounces)
Table salt: 300 grams (10 5/8 ounces)
Coarse sea salt: 210 grams (7 3/8 ounces)
Malden sea salt: 120 grams (4 1/4 ounces)

It is the first three figures that we need to pay attention to, because those are the salts we’re most likely to use in our cooking and baking. We learn from them that a tablespoon of Morton’s kosher salt is the equivalent of 1.85 tablespoons of Diamond Crystal — just half a teaspoon shy of 2 tablespoons. We learn that a tablespoon of table salt can be replaced by 2 1/4 tablespoons of Diamond Crystal kosher salt or 1 1/4 tablespoons of Morton’s.

We learn that whenever recipe writers are rash enough to give a precise measurement for salt, they ought to specify what kind they’re talking about. Some do; but even then, some just say “kosher salt” — I’ve done this myself, but I’ve stopped, and I promise never to do it again.

Most important, we learn to add salt with circumspection and to taste at every step of the way. But we all knew that anyway. Didn’t we?

Masters of the Pit: Paul Kirk

The Baron of Barbecue, Paul Kirk, shares his tales from the BBQ trail including this classic from the 2nd Annual American Royal in Kansas City.

Paul Kirk of R.U.B. Will Not Talk Trash About Kansas City BBQ Being the Best

Paul Kirk: Baron of Barbecue

Paul Kirk's Chelsea barbecue palace is named R.U.B., which stands for Righteous Urban Barbecue. Amen. Now, Long Islanders have their own outpost, serving the same menu of ribs, wings, burnt ends, and other Kansas City goodness. Kirk, who earlier this week shared his recipe for Grilled Vegetables With Balsamic-Maple Dressing, shifts his attention back to meat with a primer on different barbecue traditions. Are you excited about the new R.U.B. on Long Island? Sure. It's basically going to just like the original, except that it can seat, like, 125 instead of 70 or 80 here in the city. It's going to be an exciting adventure. Will you be doing anything different to cater to the Long Island scene? No, we're pretty much doing the same recipes. We are going to do a burger night that we started here. We were voted one of Time Out's Best Cheap Burgers in New York City for the second time this year. We're going to do more with the burgers up there because we're better set up for it, but other than that we're pretty much going to do the same thing. What's the difference between Texas-, Memphis-, and Kansas City-style barbecue? Well, it's mostly the sauce as opposed to the actual cooking process. The cooking processes are very much the same. The seasonings are different in varying areas. Like, I grew up with salt and pepper and that's basically what they use in Texas. As rubs keep evolving, people will try different spices and say, "Wow, this really turned out great." So, is Kansas City-style the best? Basically, my recipe is what I developed in competition. I won seven world championships and that's another long story. It used to be difficult for me to say that Kansas City was the barbecue capital of the world until a bunch of us started venturing out in the world and winning with our style of barbecue. What we serve at R.U.B. is completely different than normal, commercial barbecue ... just the way we season it, the way we look after it. Is there much trash talking between pit masters about the different types of barbecue? No, not really. We each have our moments of "mine's better than yours" and so forth. But there's not really a whole lot of trash talking. Maybe when the BBQ Block Party comes out there may be some trash talking, but not so much as a general rule. What are some of the biggest mistakes you see home cooks make when they try to do barbecue at home? They don't have patience. They keep looking and opening the pit to see how the meat's doing. Listen, the meat's doing just fine. All that does is let a lot of heat out that you should keep constant. That's the biggest thing. And then cooking too hot usually. Southern food and barbecue are everywhere these days. Why do you think that is? Well, I say it's American food and it's comfort food. It's social food, you know, because that's where it started: People gather around for a barbecue. It's been growing in leaps and bounds. People enjoy it. Do you have any favorite barbecue spots in New York when you're not at your own? No, I really haven't had a chance to go out. I want to go out to Daisy May's and Hill Country. I've been to Blue Smoke. I've been to John Stage's Dinosaur Bar-B-Que. I really enjoy Dinosaur, but other than that I haven't had a chance to get out because usually I have a pretty full schedule when I'm here. You're working on other restaurants in the tristate area? Yeah, a couple more. Also, I'm working on a bunch of new cookbooks. I should have two new ones out next year and I may sign a contract on a couple more by then. Are there ever any trends that emerge in the world of barbecue? Not so much this year. I think it's been pretty steady. I think people instead of trying new things, they are just trying to hang on and get through this economy. What do you like to drink with your barbecue? I pretty much just drink water.

Dog Rescuers, Karaoke Queens and Commercial Actors Converge at R.U.B. BBQ

Monday night Chelsea's R.U.B. BBQ opened on Long Island (2367 Hempstead Turnpike; East Meadow, Long Island), the first of several tri-state area expansions planned for the cultishly popular barbecue spot. Since opening in 2005, R.U.B. (aka righteous urban barbecue) has attracted countless barbecue fans from across the country, partly because of Executive Chef/Co-Owner Paul Kirk's star power. Known as the "Baron of Barbeque," Kirk, who was inducted into the Barbecue Hall of Fame (such a thing exists!) over two decades ago, is easily one the of the most accomplished meat men in the country.

But it's pit master Scott Smith who holds down the fort (and cooks the delicious burnt ends) at this BBQ mecca of sorts.

View more videos at: http://www.thefeast.com.

Are you in the mood for comfort food?

CHEF PAUL'S BACON MAC & CHEESE

3 1/4 teaspoons salt, divided
12 ounces Elbow pasta
4 teaspoons all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups whole milk, or half and half divided
2 cups finely shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
1/4 cup sliced green onions
1 teaspoon Louisiana hot sauce
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 pound apple or hickory smoked bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled

Cooking spray

Preheat broiler. Bring 6 quarts water and 1 tablespoon salt to a boil. Add pasta; cook 8 minutes or until al dente; drain.

Combine flour and 1/2 cup milk in a saucepan, with a wire whisk, over medium heat. Gradually add 1 cup milk; bring to a boil. Cook 1 minute, stirring constantly.

Remove from heat; let stand 4 minutes or until it cools to 155° degrees F. Stir in 1 1/2 cups cheese. Add 1/4 teaspoon salt, onions, hot sauce, pepper, and bacon; stir. Add pasta; toss.

Spoon into a 2-quart broiler-safe dish coated with cooking spray; top with 1/2 cup cheese. Broil 7 minutes.

Yield: 6 servings

Barbecue guru Paul Kirk's burger recipe simple, meaty and pretty good

By J.M. Hirsch (CP) – 6 hours ago

Simple and meaty. Pretty obvious and pretty good.

It's the essence of a great burger, according to Paul Kirk, a man who clearly knows his meat. He's one of the world's most accomplished barbecue gurus — with some 450 awards, including seven World Barbecue Championships — as well as executive chef at New York's R.U.B. BBQ restaurant.

"This may sound too obvious, but what makes a burger great is the meat. You can add different things to your patties or top them with whatever you'd like, but if you don't start with the right foundation, the whole building will crumble, right?" he said in an interview by email.

Kirk says he's all for experimenting with blends of different cuts of meat, but says the most important part for the home cook to focus on is the ratio of fat.

"Keep it somewhere in the 80/20 range and you'll end up with a flavourful, juicy burger," he said. "After that, I like to keep things pretty simple. Some hearty white buns and maybe some onion, but I don't top 'em with too much. I like to let the meat shine."

And so we asked Kirk to bring his barbecue expertise to AP's 20 Burgers of Summer series.

"The creation of my BBQ burger was a no-brainer. We had some chopped brisket available, as we tend to have at the restaurant, and thought about mixing a little of it in with our burger patty," he said. "It took two or three tests before we got the right balance so that you could taste the smokiness of the meat through the burger."

To up the barbecue flavour even more, Kirk added some of his dry barbecue rub to the burgers just before tossing them on the grill. He suggests using whatever variety rub you like.

BBQ Burger
Start to finish: 30 minutes

750 g (1 1/2 lb) lean ground chuck
250 g (8 oz) smoked or barbecued beef (such as brisket, short rib or tri-tip), finely chopped
50 ml (1/4 cup) purchased barbecue dry rub
1 vidalia onion, sliced into 5-mm (1/4-inch) rings
50 ml (1/4 cup) vegetable oil
4 slices smoked cheddar cheese
4 white hamburger buns
30 ml (2 tbsp) butter, softened

In a large bowl, mix ground chuck with chopped beef until well combined. Form mixture into four 250-g (8-oz) patties. Season both sides of each patty with barbecue rub, reserving just a bit of the rub.

In a small bowl, toss onion rings with vegetable oil and some of the remaining barbecue rub.

Heat a grill to medium and lightly oil the grate.

Spread butter on the inside of each bun.

Cook burgers until nearly done, flipping once, about 6 minutes per side for medium-rare, or to desired doneness.

Meanwhile, add onions to the grill and cook until slightly charred and soft.

Just before the burgers are done, top each with onions and a slice of the cheese. Cook for another minute or so.

Toast buns lightly over the grill and assemble the burgers.

Makes 4 servings.

Nutrition information per serving (values are rounded to the nearest whole number): 711 calories; 377 calories from fat; 43 g fat (16 g saturated; 0 g trans fats); 170 mg cholesterol; 27 g carbohydrate; 57 g protein; 2 g fibre; 525 mg sodium.

The Kansas City Barbeque Society Cookbook, 25th Anniversary Edition and America's Best BBQ Book Signing

Come out and join Ardie Davis and myself for a discussion and book signing of The Kansas City Barbeque Society Cookbook, 25th Anniversary Edition and America's Best BBQ book on August 5th in South Portland, ME  and August 7th in Newington, NH.

Thursday, August 5 - 7 pm
Ardie Davis and Paul Kirk
Discussion and book signing
The Kansas City Barbeque Society Cookbook, 25th Anniversary Edition and America's Best BBQ

Borders
430 Gorham Rd
South Portland, ME 04106
207-775-6110

also:

Saturday, August 7 - 2 pm
Ardie Davis and Paul Kirk
Discussion and book signing
The Kansas City Barbeque Society Cookbook, 25th Anniversary Edition and America's Best BBQ

Barnes and Noble
45 Gosling Road
The Crossings at Fox Run
Newington, NH 03801
(603) 422-7733

KC Barbeque Society celebrates 25 years with book of recipes, memories

By JILL WENDHOLT SILVA
The Kansas City Star

What’s your favorite sport?

For Carolyn Wells, Ardie Davis or Paul Kirk, the answer is competition barbecue.

The three friends are the sauce-stained and smoke-stoked minds behind “The Kansas City Barbeque Society Cookbook: 25th Anniversary Edition” (Andrews McMeel, $24.99), a collection of 200 recipes and a snapshot scrapbook released in honor of the nonprofit organization’s 25th anniversary.

This breakfast interview was conducted at Johnny’s Hickory House Bar-B-Q in Mission over plates of ribs and chicken. Kirk, a professional chef and winner of more than 475 cooking and barbecuing awards, brought along Brisket and Gravy With Flaky Biscuits, a recipe that appears in the cookbook.

Q: So you guys eat it for breakfast. You eat it for dessert. Is there any time you can’t eat barbecue?

Kirk: (Laughs.) No, not that I know of.

Wells: We haven’t found it yet.

Kirk: And I’m not looking!

So take me back 25 years. Could you ever have imagined the success of the KCBS?

Wells: Never. All we wanted to do was drink beer and cook and go home with meat.

Davis: It’s amazing because there are a lot of other barbecue organizations. Some have come and gone, and some are a lot older than we are. … I guess we just didn’t know it couldn’t be done. But for some reason, KCBS just took off.

Wells: Now we’re over 13,000 members.

Do you think the success of KCBS is because of what you’re doing with the organization as opposed to other organizations, or is it because the KCBS’ home base is Kansas City?

Davis: Some of both, but I think KCBS has a reputation for fairness. Most cooks prefer the blind judging format, and the reputation helps attract members and contests. Some of them have elaborate numbering systems, and competitors try to figure out how to beat the system.

Ours is just very straightforward, and everybody trusts it’s going to be blind judging so everybody knows they can get a fair shake. They even rotate the entries so that the same table doesn’t get the same entries every time.

I mean, it’s taken 25 years, and we’re constantly fine-tuning it. That’s why we say in the book, check the website ( http://www.kcbs.us/) for current rules and regulations.

Wells: And then culturally, barbecue is the ultimate comfort food. It’s everyman’s food. So even in tough economic times, people just sort of gravitate toward it. It’s all about food, family, fun and friends. Barbecue is not a solitary pursuit.

But with funny team names, pig noses and jazzed-up cookers, does KCBS win out because the members are wackier than other organizations?

Wells: The others are just as wacky, but they’re not as vocal about it. My catchphrase is barbecue people see themselves a couple of steps off center, and they like themselves that way. It’s a “Why be normal?” thing.

Putting the cookbook together over the last year must have been a real trip down memory lane for all of you.

Kirk: Some critics have said, “This looks like a yearbook.” You’re right. Thank you. But they said that to diss us.

Wells: We think the 30th anniversary book could be twice the size.

Are you already looking ahead to the next cookbook?

Davis: Absolutely.

Your first cookbook, “The Kansas City Barbeque Society Cookbook” (Favorite Recipes Press), was it timed to an anniversary?

Wells: No. But our last book sold 118,000 copies and made the Walter McIlhenny Cookbook Hall of Fame.

Davis: The book is full of memories, some of them bittersweet. You see friends that are gone. And we don’t want to forget them.

Is the cookbook something that you think will drive new membership?

Wells:You’d never believe that everybody in the world wants to be a barbecue judge. We’ve certified more than 15,000 judges, and they tend to travel in a pack like we do. So they’re friends with other judges, and it’s a great way to visit places you wouldn’t normally go and experience friendships you haven’t made yet.

Barbecue has got a fair tourism component to it, to the point that people are now doing economic impact studies to see how much revenue a barbecue contest brings to, say, Greenwood, S.C. There it has gone from $500,000 to $3 million in three years.

Kirk: I figured up what I spent for the Lenexa Barbecue Battle over the years, and it’s over $35,000 in meat alone. So if that’s bought in one small town, that’s a hell of an impact.

Wells: Anothercool thing is to see the industries spawned from competition barbecue. We didn’t invent rubs, but they became more of an everyday item after competition barbecue started coming along. While rubs may be expensive, we also know it takes years off the learning curve for competition cooking. The number of restaurateurs and caterers who have branched out from competition barbecue is considerable.

Kirk: The people I teach say rubs take three to five years off the trial and error.

Are younger cooks going to move up into leadership roles with the KCBS?

Wells: The next generation is equally passionate. But it’s an expensive sport, so you probably can’t afford it in your 20s unless you band a lot of people together.

But there’s plenty between 30 to 45 — the years when you’ve got the stamina and means, and/or sponsorship. Plus, these days people are professionally branding themselves now.

Davis: There’s a team out of California that is introducing an Asian influence. They’re savvy to umami (in addition to sweet, sour, salty or bitter tastes, the Japanese identify “umami” is an overall delicious, savory essence). They won the Great American Barbecue Contest last year. They’re a fairly new team, and they’re just cleaning up at competition.

I think part of their secret is they know flavors. They know how to balance and put things together.

Wells: The flavor profile is much more complex than it used to be. There’s so much more layering.

Kirk: It’s gone from salt and pepper to umami.

Wells: Literally.

How has the structure of the organization changed?

Wells: Organizationally speaking, we are teenagers right now. Over the last five years, through necessity, we’ve turned into, this is not the right word, but bureaucrats. We’ve added structure to the point where it is sometimes painful.

But we have to. Our combined purses are over $2.5 million a year. Anytime you get that much money involved, you have to. It’s a necessary component. And while we’re trying to keep the spirit of fun, we’re much more regimented than we used to be.

What’s the future of barbecue as sport?

Wells: I would like to see us doing more things to preserve grills, memorabilia — basically we need a shrine for a food group.

Where I see us going is embracing basically all forms of outdoor cooking. The next great migration will be a backyard barbecue contest, things you can do in one day. A place where people aren’t intimidated and can bring their kids. Kids Que’s. Going into tailgating. Dutch oven stuff. And even cooking with gas.

Kirk: Ugh.

Wells: Anything that you can do outdoors that represents outside-the-box talent. Again, it’s about the extended family, and tailgating promotes that same sort of thing as competition barbecue, and that’s where younger ones are going to come in droves.

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Brisket and Gravy With Flaky Biscuits

One of the mottos of the KCBS: “Barbecue … it’s not just for breakfast anymore.” Charter KCBS member and world champion cooker Paul Kirk, aka the Baron of BBQ, shares his biscuit and gravy recipe in the book.

Makes 10 to 12 servings

For the gravy:
1/2 pound bulk mild sausage
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 pound barbecued brisket point, diced
2 to 3 cups milk
Salt and black pepper, to taste

For the biscuits:
1  1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup bread flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon sea salt
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, chilled
3 tablespoons lard or solid white vegetable shortening, chilled
3/4 cup cold milk
2 tablespoons butter, melted

For the gravy: Crumble the sausage into a skillet and cook over medium heat until browned. Sprinkle the flour over the browned sausage, stirring constantly. Blend in the brisket. When the mixture is thoroughly combined, slowly add the milk a little at a time until you reach your desired thickness. Stir constantly until creamy and bubbly, about 3 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

For the biscuits: Preheat oven to 425 degrees and make sure the rack is in the center of the oven.

In a large bowl, combine the flours, baking powder and salt; mix well. With your fingertips, two knives or a pastry blender, cut in the chilled butter and lard until the mixture resembles cornmeal. Stir in the cold milk and mix just until the dry ingredients are moistened. Gather the dough into a ball and place it on a lightly floured work surface.

Roll the dough into a rectangle about 1/2 inch thick. Using a 2-inch round biscuit cutter, flouring the cutter between cuts, cut out the biscuits, gather the scraps and form the dough into another 1/2 -inch thick piece of dough, being careful not to work it too much.

Place the biscuits 1  1/2 inches apart on an ungreased baking sheet and brush the tops with melted butter. Bake for 10 to 14 minutes, until golden brown. Serve immediately with warm gravy.

Per serving, based on 10: 374 calories (59 percent from fat), 24 grams total fat (11 grams saturated), 56 milligrams cholesterol, 25 grams carbohydrates, 13 grams protein, 562 milligrams sodium, 1 gram dietary fiber.
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Grilled Pork Roast With Pepper Jelly Glaze

Makes 8 serving

1 (2-pound) boneless pork loin roast

Marinade:
1/2 cup apple juice
1/2 cup apple cider vinegar
1/2 cup hot pepper jelly

Glaze:
1/3 cup hot pepper jelly
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

Place the pork in a large resealable plastic bag. Heat the marinade ingredients together over medium heat until the jelly melts, then pour the mixture over the pork in the bag. Seal the bag tightly and refrigerate for 12 to 24 hours.

Prepare a medium-hot grill. Remove pork from the marinade and discard marinade. Place the pork roast on the grill over a drip pan and close the grill hood. Grill for 30 to 45 minutes (about 20 minutes per pound), until the internal temperature on a meat thermometer reads 150 degrees.

While the meat is cooking, stir together glaze ingredients. During the last 10 minutes of cooking, coat the roast with the glaze. Remove the roast from the heat and let it rest until the internal temperature reaches 160 degrees, about 10 minutes.

Per serving: 179 calories (31 percent from fat), 6 grams total fat (2 grams saturated), 31 milligrams cholesterol, 17 grams carbohydrates, 14 grams protein, 49 milligrams sodium, trace dietary fiber.
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Corn Bread Salad

Competition and camaraderie are what it’s all about. Carolyn McLemore of Big Bob Gibson’s Bar-B-Q in Decatur, Ala., shared this recipe.

Makes 10 to 12 servings

Corn bread:
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
3 cups buttermilk
2 eggs
1 cup yellow cornmeal
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 (4-ounce) can chopped green chilies

Salad:
1 (1-ounce) package ranch-style dressing mix
1 (8-ounce) container sour cream
1 cup mayonnaise
3 large tomatoes, chopped
1/2 cup chopped green bell pepper
1/2 cup chopped scallion
2 (16-ounce) cans pinto beans, drained
2 cups shredded cheddar cheese
1  1/2 cups cooked and crumbled bacon
1 (15-ounce) can corn, drained

To make the corn bread: Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Coat a cast-iron skillet with the vegetable oil and heat it in the oven. Mix the buttermilk and eggs in a bowl, then add the cornmeal, baking soda, baking powder, salt and chilies, stirring briskly. Pour the batter into the hot skillet. Bake for 15 minutes, or until lightly browned. Cool completely, then crumble.

To make the salad: Whisk together the ranch dressing mix, sour cream and mayonnaise and set aside. Combine the tomatoes, green pepper and scallion to form a salsa and set aside. Put half the crumbled corn bread in the bottom of a large serving bowl. Top with 1 can of the pinto beans. Follow with half of the salsa, half of the cheese, half of the bacon, half of the corn and half of the dressing mixture. Repeat the layers, starting with the rest of the corn bread and ending with the rest of the dressing mixture. Cover and chill for at least 2 hours before serving.

Per serving, based on 10: 736 calories (63 percent from fat), 52 grams total fat (17 grams saturated), 117 milligrams cholesterol, 42 grams carbohydrates, 28 grams protein, 1,863 milligrams sodium, 6 grams dietary fiber.
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KC Rib Doctor’s Baked Beans

Guy Simpson, aka the KC Rib Doctor, had his baked bean recipe published in Woman’s Day magazine in March 1987. It has been continually tweaked over the years.

Makes about 6 cups

1 cup diced sliced bacon (about 1/2 pound)
1 large onion, diced (about 1 cup)
1 large red bell pepper, diced (about 1 cup)
1 cup packed dark brown sugar
1 cup tomato-based barbecue sauce
1/3 cup real maple syrup
3 (28-ounce) cans pork and beans, preferably Bush’s Original
Chopped brisket burnt ends, as desired

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Fry the bacon in a heavy skillet over medium heat until lightly browned. Add the onion and red pepper and cook for 3 minutes, until the vegetables are tender-crisp. Stir in the brown sugar, barbecue sauce and maple syrup. Put the beans in a 12-by-6-by 3-inch foil pan. Add the bacon mixture and burnt ends; stir to mix.

Loosely cover with a sheet of foil. Place the beans in the oven and bake for 40 to 60 minutes, stirring 3 times.

If you’re going to cook the beans in your smoker, preheat it to 230 degrees and cook uncovered for about 4 hours, stirring 3 to 4 times, adding barbecue sauce or liquid if the beans get too dry.

Per 1/2 -cup serving: 430 calories (26 percent from fat), 13 grams total fat (5 grams saturated), 30 milligrams cholesterol, 67 grams carbohydrates, 17 grams protein, 130 milligrams sodium, 4 grams dietary fiber.
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Wanna do lunch?

You’re invited to join barbecue masters Paul Kirk (from left), Ardie Davis and Carolyn Wells, along with other Kansas City Barbeque Society members, when they meet for lunch at Johnny’s Bar-B-Q in Mission, 5959 Broadmoor St., on the first Wednesday of each month. “Literally everyone is welcome,” Davis says. The gatherings start at 11:30 a.m. Everyone pays his or her own check.