Al Dente

Cheese-a-Topia Was Cheese-Tastic!

I am coming down from a three-day cheese high after attending the American Cheese Society's annual conference in Seattle. The event concluded with superstar speaker Michael Pollan giving artisan cheese producers a well-deserved pat on the back for their efforts to get people thinking differently about food. (More on his presentation in another post.)

This gathering of more than 1,000 cheesemakers, retailers, wholesalers, chef-types and authors featured lectures on How To Taste Cheese, for beginners and advanced cheese lovers, seminars on making various cheeses with sheep's milk, goat and cow milk and a field trip to Beecher's, whose big cheese, Kurt Dammeier, was the co-chair of the conference. There was also a fascinating guided tasting on pairing beer and cheese led by Seattle's own Charles and Rose Ann Finkel, owners of The Pike Brewing Co., as well as a heated competition to put together the coolest cheese case. The champs were from DeLaurenti in Pike Place Market.

Along with the scholarly -- but never dry -- discussions, there was a whole lot of cheese tasting. The dazzling Festival of Cheese showcased more than 500 American cheeses. I was blown away by a number of cheeses I sampled including the Dinah from Kurtwood Farms on Vashon Island, a quick ferry ride from West Seattle. It's made with milk from Jersey cows, which produce a richer, ultra-creamy milk and is featured on the cover of this month's Culture magazine. Another surprising favorite was a Smoked Black Pepper Cheese from Tillamook. Love to be able to pick that specialty cheese up in local stores, but it's a bit challenging to find.

The final cherry on top of this epic event was a cheese sale on Sunday. I was so tempted to load up on bargains, but there's only so much space in my fridge. Keeping cheese fresh is a little easier since I discovered Cheese Paper, the coolest thing since somebody decided to slip cheddar between a couple slices of bread and toast it. It lets the cheese -- a living thing -- "breathe" while keeping it from drying out. It's brilliant. 

--Leslie Kelly

Jon Rowley's A True Food Hero

While I've yet to see food guru Jon Rowley leap a tall building in a single bound, I have watched the man lead a busload of people on a late night oyster run, where bivalve fans opened oysters they found on the beach at low tide. In his quiet, yet determined way, Rowley knows how to whip food lovers into a frenzy over some of his favorite subjects: salmon, oysters, strawberries and peaches. Julia Child called him a fish missionary. If you've seen him touting Frog Hollow fruit this time of year, he's a peach preacher.

Georgia Pellegrini calls him a hero in her new book. Food Heroes: 16 Culinary Artisans Preserving Tradition recognizes a batch of folks most people whose names aren't familiar: Sue Forrester, aka The Butter Poet, Jean-Benoit Hughes, an olive farmer in Provence and Allan Benton, the country ham maestro from Madisonville, Tenn.

The author (pictured above, with her subject) met Rowley at an oyster shucking event in New York City and while prying open shells, he turned her into an oyster believer. She traveled to the Northwest to watch him work, pulling his refractometer from a pocket to measure the sugar content of tree-ripened fruit and, sometimes, even vegetables. His attention pushes farmers to do better work, to cut back on watering tomatoes so they're sweeter. He has made fragile Shuksan strawberries a sensation and put the Copper River on the map.

He was almost too big for this book, Pellegrini said. The book's mission was to introduce readers to heros flying under the radar. Michael Pollan is not included, nor Eric Schlosser, author of Fast Food Nation.

I'm sure glad she included Rowley. He's an invaluable resource and an agitator of the best sort. Farmers might shudder when they see him pull out his refractometer, but his squeaky wheel pushes them in the right direction.

I've learned many lessons from Rowley, who's been a great source over the years. The one lesson I most often put to the test is his sure-fire method for cooking salmon, searing it in my Scanpan and finishing it in a 275-degree oven for 10 minutes. (He goes even lower, setting the temp at 250-degrees, but every oven is different.)

Who's your food hero?

Baconopolis: The Squeakquel!

Oink, oink!

I made like a little piggy of myself at the latest installment of Baconopolis, a celebration of swine produced by Tom Douglas and his uber-talented crew. This version featured dishes from Ari Weinzweig's Guide to Better Bacon, which isn't so much a cookbook as a collection of stories of pork bellies, hush puppies, rock 'n' roll music and bacon fat mayonnaise. (The book's subtitle.)

Ari's the co-founding partner of Zingerman's, a deli-turned-delicious-empire in Ann Arbor, Michigan. He's in Seattle for the American Cheese Society's annual conference, so his buddy Tom threw a bacon-y shindig and invited anybody who's into the hottest ingredient around. (It's the third Baconopolis in two years.)

The Palace Ballroom was slightly smoky as bacon sizzled at various stations around the room. Bacon fans snarfed up pimento cheese on bacon, potato salad with bacon, "mac-and-greeze" and biscuits topped with whipped lardo. While people munched on grilled bacon-wrapped bananas and devils on horseback (bacon-wrapped oysters), Ari got the crowd fired up, talking about the history of pork in this country. (Spanish explorer Hernando DeSoto brought pigs with him in the 1500s as he explored the Mississippi River.) He also touched on chocolate gravy made with pan drippings and the different cuts of bacon throughout the world.

Then, there was a raffle for baconcentric prizes including a bacon lunch box, a bacon board game and a bacon wallet. Hot dog!

I got a big kick out of watching a cook working a wood-fired grill, tending the banana-bacon skewers. It inspired me to make my neighbors jealous the next time I fire up the grill by throwing some bacon over the charcoal. Wonder how I can do that without having it flame out? Get it real hot and keep it high above the coals?

All those bacon-y bites made me mighty thirsty. I sipped an Amstel Light. You know, to balance out all those calories I was savoring.

-- Leslie Kelly

What Kind Of Ice Cream Cone Floats Your Boat?

This has been a very sweet summer at my house, as I play with my new Kitchen-Aid ice cream maker. I love it more with every batch. I've even gotten brave enough to take it out and share it with friends. The other night, I was invited to a dinner party and the hostess asked if I could bring dessert. Heck yes.

I also brought a package of cones along with the raspberry ice cream and it was a huge hit. There's just something about licking an ice cream cone makes you feel like a kid again. When I was growing up, I was a fan of the cake cone. Those cones are the blank-est of canvases, adding more of a crispy texture than any kind of a taste.

Then, I graduated to sugar cones, which remind me of a cookie my great-grandmother Signe used to make.

Waffle cones are the Cadillac of all cones, especially those that are dipped in chocolate and dragged through sprinkles. I could even make them at home on a waffle cone maker. Those dazzling waffle cones kind of outshine the cold creamy ice cream, though.

Is the ice cream-loving world split into camps? Those who love sugar cones or waffle cones? Cake cones or straight-up simple, in a bowl?

-- Leslie Kelly

A Toast To Sweet Tea And The Waning Days Of Summer

It's hard to believe August is nearly over. In many parts of the country, school has already started. The leaves are turning in the mountains near my home. Days are shorter.

Yet, I'm still sipping my favorite summer refresher, sweet tea with extra lemon. I got hooked on the stuff while living down South in Memphis, Tenn., where the amber liquid flows as freely as espresso shots in Seattle. Funny thing is, as well as the Northwest knows its coffee, it don't know iced tea. At least in restaurants. Every time I've ever ordered it, it's weak and insipid or bitter and cloudy from being over-steeped. Come on people! We're not talking about brain surgery.

I would steer the clueless to a recipe from Martha Foose's James Beard-award-winning Screen Doors and Sweet Tea. The secret is cold brewing. It makes for an intense flavor without the bitterness associated with leaving the bags in the scalding water too long. I like to keep a jar of simple syrup in the fridge, sometimes tossing in a handful of fresh mint. (Which makes for some mighty fine mint juleps, too.)

If you happen to be near Nashville this weekend, be sure and check out the very first Sweet Tea Festival in Franklin. I can almost hear the ice cubes making beautiful music as they bump up against the tall glasses.

Sweet Tea

From Screen Doors and Sweet Tea

4 pitcher-size cold-brew tea bags or 6 tablespoons orange pekoe leaves in a diffuser

3/4 cup sugar

2 lemons, sliced

ice cubes

fresh mint sprigs, optional

Place the tea in a pitcher and add three quarts cold water; steep for 30 minutes. Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, combine 1 cup water with the sugar. Boil, stirring occasionally, until the sugar is dissolved. Remove the tea. Add the sugar mixture and stir. Serve over ice with lemon and fresh mint, if desired.

-- Leslie Kelly

Essential Tool For Cooking With Kids: Step Stool

I recently went to a family reunion, a potluck picnic with fried chicken, salads and watermelon on the menu. It was wonderful to catch up with kin I hadn't seen in too long, but my favorite memory of this event happened in the kitchen prior to the party.

My niece, Makena, offered to help me make broccoli salad. But we had to hunt around for a way to get the little squirt up to the counter. I recall spending time with my grandmother, watching her make dinner from a perch on a sturdy step stool. Because I'm still fairly short, a stool has been a mainstay in my kitchen, giving me easy access to ingredients on shelves out of reach. I would be lost without it.

Not a problem for my tall brother or his athletic wife apparently, because I couldn't find a stool. We improvised with a chair and Makena did a terrific job of adding spoonfuls of mayonnaise, stirring the salad, adding vinegar and sugar. Her big brother walked in and asked what we were doing. We asked if he wanted a taste. "No way," he said. Just like my sibling did so many years ago when I would try to talk him into trying something he didn't like.

Some things never change. Like the usefulness of a sturdy step stool!

-- Leslie Kelly

Shear Love!

Loads of cooks proclaim their passion for a favorite knife, but my kitchen shears are the sharpest tool in my kitchen.

Can a knife reach into a pot of simmering greens and -- snip, snip -- turn them into bite-size pieces? Can a knife turn chives into a tasty topping for baked potatoes or deviled eggs at a quick 1-2-3 clip? Well, maybe. But this valuable player is awfully handy to have around.

I've used them to divide pizza dough and to cut bacon into bits. Just the other day, those shears made the neatest chunks of smoked salmon for a pasta dish I threw together a few years ago and has now become part of my go-to meal plans. When I tried to shred the fillets by hand, they disintegrated into tiny flakes. But the shears worked like a dream.

Do you have any suggestions for getting even more mileage out of this uber-tool?

-- Leslie Kelly

My Cups Don't Measure Up

Earlier this week, I competed in a cooking contest called Cake vs. Pie. Cute premise, huh?

Even though I'm not much of a cake baker, I decided to go for the crumb instead of the crust and entered a caramel cake. My first-ever caramel cake.

Big mistake.

While I followed the directions in the stellar recipe, the edge of the cake was kind of crumbly. Which meant the caramel icing dragged chunks of it off, like a sticky avalanche. I tried to "glue" it back together, but the finished product looked nothing like the gorgeous picture in the recipe. Still, it tasted incredible.

Something went haywire on the cake end and I think part of the problem is that I used liquid measuring cups to measure my dry ingredients. Lame! But no more. I've put in an order for a set of dry measuring cups and spoons. As soon as they arrive, I'm going to keep practicing until I nail that cake. Because it was so good!

What's your favorite layer cake? Have you ever won a ribbon?

-- Leslie Kelly

Sweet Deals At Farmers Market Makes For Incredible Ice Cream

I love a good bargain... almost as much as I enjoy supporting local producers by shopping at neighborhood farmers markets. Those two quests are often at odds. And while I'm willing to pay a premium for pristine fruit and veggies picked fresh hours before they go into my shopping bags, it's a challenge for me to fork over $18 for a half a flat of half pints of raspberries destined for the blender.

Recently, I mentioned my conundrum to the young woman manning one of my favorite fruit stands: "I really want to make some raspberry ice cream, but just can't bear to pay the price."

"Come over here," she whispered. I stepped behind the booth and there was a bucket of squashed and bruised fruit, too damaged to sell, but perfect for a raspberry puree. "I can sell this to you for cheap," she said.

Score!

I used an easy recipe from a nifty new book, The Joy Of Jams, Jellies, And Other Sweet Preserves by preserving whiz Linda Ziedrich and made some spectacular ice cream in my wonderful Kitchen Aid ice cream maker. The berry flavor was intense! Like summer in a bowl.

The very next day, while at The Pike Place Market, I hit up a vendor at the end of the day, asking if there were any seconds for sale. The counter jockey pulled out two big bags of slightly dinged up white peaches and charged me $2. Hello Peach Sorbet!

Now, those are the kind of deals I can really sink my teeth into!

Raspberry Ice Cream, from The Joy Of Jams, Jellies, And Other Sweet Preserves

1 cup cream

3 egg yolks

1 cup raw raspberry puree (1 pound raspberries pressed through a fine sieve)

2/3 cup sugar

Instructions

Whirl ingredients together in a blender. Freeze the mixture in an ice cream freezer, according to the manufacturer's instructions.

Yields: About 2 1/2 cups.

-- Leslie Kelly

Geek Alert: Wine Gizmo Comes Complete With Sound Effects

When it comes to wine gadgets, I'm a minimalist. I don't have a fancy storage system, just my trusty Vacu Vin. While there is a nifty wine fridge in my kitchen, my "cellar" is a corner of my pantry. It stays fairly cool, but there's no temp control or humidifier.

I'm not looking to expand my wine gizmos, especially because I've been skeptical of these dealie-bobs that promise to aerate wine as it's poured from the bottle to the glass. The tool is designed to allows you to skip the carafe when decanting older wines or, when drinking low-brow, bring out another dimension.

But then I got a chance to taste the results a trip through the Vinturi made in a wine I brought to a family dinner party. The wine was a 2003 reserve Cabernet Sauvignon from Eagle Creek, a tiny winery near Leavenworth, Washington, home to a growing number of producers. My brother was pretty pumped about his recent acquisition of a Vinturi, so we decided to put it to the test in a side-by-side tasting of wine poured through the aerator and one simply swirled in the glass. The aerated wine had a deeper, more intense flavor while the other glass was still good, but slightly less spectacular.

The plus or minus, depending on how you look at things, is that this gadget is downright noisy by design. It sounds like a faucet running at full force as the wine trickles through the aerator into the glass. I think it's pretty funny and incredibly useful, so have added it to my must-buy list.

What's your favorite wine accessory?

-- Leslie Kelly

Wok This Way: Seven Layer Stir-Fry

Summer is usually the season my wok stays in the pantry, but on a recent trip to the farmers market, I scored a basket full of produce that begged for the stir-fry treatment. I picked up some wild chanterelle mushrooms and some foraged sea beans, tender greens that have a texture that's a cross between green beans and asparagus. There was also Walla Walla sweet onions and bell peppers and a bunch of sweet pea vines.

Instead of tossing them all together, I wanted each element to stand out on its own, so I decided to make a layered stir-fry. Like a layered dip.

It took a little longer to make it that way, but it sure looked pretty on the plate. I finished the dish off with walnuts I toasted and then splashed in a shower of soy sauce. A swell summer supper.

If You Eat Fish, You've Got To Read Paul Greenberg's New Book

I can't remember the last time a book about food made me cry. But the tears started on page 19 of Paul Greenberg's important new release, Four Fish: The Future of The Last Wild Food: "There are diminished runs of (wild Pacific salmon) still remaining in California, Oregon and British Columbia, but their viability is in question."

I cannot fathom a world without wild salmon, but industrial interests have trumped the fish from the beginnings of this country wiping out the wild Atlantic salmon. In the portion of the book dedicated to exploring the future of that fish, Greenberg travels to the Yukon River Valley in Alaska, spending time with the Yupik Eskimos, who have been struggling to get a commercial fishery going. He spends the day on the water with a family who are fishing for subsistence, not to sell their catch. The numbers of fish counted by the Fish and Game department weren't high enough on that particular day to allow for commercial fishing.

Greenberg's crisp, evocative writing puts readers in the boat as the nets yield a decent haul of Keta salmon. But, then there's a bit of drama and a magnificent King salmon is hauled in. It's later bartered for frozen chicken and ground beef, a scene that again tugged on my heart. Greenberg said that experience crystalized for him what was still a project in development: "I had sold the proposal, but I still wasn't sure of the direction I was heading. Until I witnessed that exchange," he said in a recent phone interview.

This book is tough to digest, but it's a must read. Its tone is cool and calm, not inflamatory, and Greenberg makes every attempt to illuminate all sides of the story. For instance, he interviews the man who is responsible for helping launch the aquaculture industry and paints a portrait of a person motivated by a desire to feed people. The godfather of farmed salmon is bewildered by the controversy surrounding the practice.

I hope Four Fish is a huge seller and that Greenberg becomes known as the Michael Pollan of the deep. It's a cold wake-up call, but we need to heed it before it's too late.

Greenberg is currently on tour and will be in Seattle Tuesday for a reading at the University Bookstore at 7 p.m. For additional information about appearances, check out his publisher's Web site.

-- Leslie Kelly

Summer Corn On the Cob: How Sweet!

We've grown accustomed to seeing strawberries from South America in the dead of winter and winter squash on the shelves in the sweltering heat. There are no seasons anymore in the produce department. Except...

There's nothing finer than gnawing on a juicy, sweet ear of corn on the cob in the middle of summer, right? I make all sorts of embarrassing sounds when I bite into a piece of corn that's as sweet as any bowl of ice cream. Mostly mmmmm-ing. Then, please pass the corn.

I've played around with various preparations: roasted it on the grill, stripped the kernels from the cob and pureed it into a cold, creamy soup, made it part of a clam bake. But my favorite way to eat corn on the cob in its summer prime is to barely cook it -- starting it in a pot of cold water and turning it off as soon as it reaches a boil -- and then seasoning it simply. Sometimes, I don't even use butter, just rub it with a lime wedge. It's so good, I have burned my fingers because I can't wait for it to cool to pick it up.

That's where my corn on the cob holders come in handy. They were one of my birthday gifts from my husband a few years ago. Yes, he knows me well.

What's your favorite way to dress up an ear of sweet summer corn on the cob?

-- Leslie Kelly

Goin' Fishing For Advice On Cooking Whole Salmon

I feel incredibly fortunate to live in salmon country. While much of the best fish does come from Alaska, there are runs off the Washington and Oregon coasts throughout summer. Judging by the deals I've seen in my local fish markets, I'm guessing it's been a good year.

Last week, I hooked a whole salmon for $5.99 a pound. It was a 5-pound sockeye, its ruby red flesh so rich and flavorful. I wanted to let it shine by doing very little to it. And because I was expecting a crowd, I decided to cook it whole because I like that kind of dramatic presentation at the table.

Before cooking it, I asked a few salmon specialists for advice on cooking a whole fish. One friend suggested steaming it in the dishwasher, skipping the detergent, obviously. I got a big kick out of that, but not so sure I wanted to experiment. Others served up tips on cooking it at high heat, while one said, no, no, no! Go low.

I compromised and heated my oven to 325. I placed the simply seasoned salmon on a cedar plank and wrapped the whole thing in foil. It baked for a little more than an hour when I pulled it out. It smelled wonderful, but after beginning the tricky process of de-boning the salmon, it was clear it wasn't yet done. Back into the oven for another 10 minutes. That was it! It was perfect, especially alongside new potatoes, green beans and sliced tomatoes from the farmers market.

Still, I think I like salmon fillets best. One of these days, I'm going to learn to fillet my own fish.

-- Leslie Kelly

Hot Fun In The Summertime: Grilling Burgers

Had some friends over for a burger bash last night and everybody who was sitting around the table gave those hand-held whoppers a big saucy thumbs up. (Pass the extra napkins, please!)

I learned a thing or three about making the juiciest burgers from chef Craig Hetherington at TASTE restaurant at the Seattle Art Museum. Believe it or not, this elegant venue serves one of the best burgers in Seattle. Chef Craig sources his ground beef locally, from Skagit River Ranch. The kitchen crew then seasons that meat and douses it in some olive oil before mixing it thoroughly. It's the olive oil that makes the meat extra moist.

Going the local route, I used a blend of ground beef from Olsen Farms and Painted Hills. I seasoned the meat with Secret Stash Salt's chorizo salt and, for extra flavor, tossed in a handful of crispy bacon bits. Scored those thick patties with a tic-tac-toe pattern, a trick I learned at Palace Kitchen, so the burger doesn't plump up in the middle while cooking.

Seared those burgers over charcoal (glowing hot in a hurry because I used my super cool chimney starter) and served 'em up with the classic condiments plus a chimichurri aioli I whipped up. Yup, there's nothing like a cookout for some hot (juicy) fun in the summertime.

-- Leslie Kelly

On The Mad Men Menu: Martinis, Mac-and-Cheese

Like millions of Americans, I tuned in for the season premiere of Mad Men last night. To warm up for the retro soap opera, I decided to whip up a 1960s-inspired dinner. Martinis to start, of course. Shaken, not stirred.

There are choices from that era that are part of my repertoire, dishes I know well enough to make without looking at a recipe: Meatloaf, spaghetti and meatballs, beef stroganoff. I considered doing turkey tettrazini or a tuna noodle casserole with crushed potato chips on top, but decided to go the mac-and-cheese route because I happened to have some Irish cheddar in the fridge.

First course, though, was an old-fashioned iceberg salad with blue cheese, pickled beets on the side.

And, as the opening credits roll, I sliced a wedge cheesecake that came from a mix. Horrors! It would be right at home on Betty's table, though, so what the heck?

There was a juicy reference to Chicken Kiev in the first episode. Diners who ordered that butter-stuffed chicken breast were required to wear bibs. Wonder if that poultry preparation will ever make a comeback? Is there any 1960s-era chow that needs to be back on the table?

-- Leslie Kelly

Sunday Morning Dilemma: Grits or Hash Browns?

I love getting up early on Sunday. It's quiet. There's nothing to interrupt coffee and The New York Times. I have plenty of time to contemplate what's for breakfast. Today, I thought about chucking the ritual and heading out to my favorite greasy spoon for some chicken fried steak and eggs. But that would require getting dressed, wouldn't it? A successful Sunday means hanging out in my robe until at least noon.

But, man, I was suddenly craving those golden hash browns that come alongside the dredged and fried hunk of steak. Only problem, no cooked spuds. The best fried taters are made with potatoes that had been cooked and thoroughly cooled. That's my experience anyway.

So, I rummaged around in the cupboard and found a box of Albers Quick Cooking Grits. Hmmm. That's a good start, but what would satisfy my itch for something crispy? Yes, of course, the answer was obvious and moments later, bacon was sizzling in my Lodge skillet. As it perfumed the kitchen with its salty/savory scent, I spied a couple of Walla Walla Sweets in my "fruit basket" and decided to embellish my bacon with some onion jam.

After the bacon was crispy, I wiped out most of the grease and loaded the skillet with thick-sliced onion rings. To speed up the cooking process a bit, I placed a small lid on top, pressing the onions into the heat. Lickety split, I had gorgeous caramelized onions. I finished this condiment with a sprinkle of Secret Stash's Chorizo Salt. Brilliant!

One final touch before plating: I folded in some shredded Irish cheddar to the grits and splashed some hot sauce on the side. As I savored this satisfying dish, I didn't miss those hash browns one single bit.

-- Leslie Kelly

Giving 'Light' Foods A Whole New Meaning

My hubby's going on a week-long backpacking trip, tromping around Glacier Peak in Central Washington. He's spent days organizing meals, always keeping weight in mind. I bought him a cool book that offers super lightweight dishes, The Well-Fed Backpacker by June Fleming.

Hit the trail with bouillabaisse, Cashew Rice Curry, Mountain Stew, Shrimp Creole or Wild Goulash.

His buddy who's sharing the load offered to dehydrate some ingredients. Of course, you can buy dried fruits and veggies, but doing it yourself makes for tastier stuff. That was especially true for a batch of Vidalias. Those sweet onions are a key to the curried lentils and Chili Mac. He's also got dried bell peppers, tomatoes and celery.

It took this exercise in trying to keep things light to get me thinking that I really need a dehydrator, another way to preserve cherries, strawberries, pears, apples and apricots and more. Any tips for successfully drying food?

-- Leslie Kelly

Happy National Hot Dog Day! How Do You Like Your Wieners?

There's a bit of confusion about the actual day, but the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council has designated July as National Hot Dog month, so the celebration could last 30 days for some.

I'm highly suggestible when it comes to these food holidays, so this morning, I walked to Pike Place Market and purchased a couple of old-school frankfurters from Bavarian Meats. As I made my way home, I thought about how I would prepare those wieners.

I love to roast 'em over an open flame, but it was too early in the day for a campfire and I didn't feel like lighting the grill. I could have sliced them lengthwise and popped them in the George Foreman Lean Mean Grilling Machine, another way I like to cook hot dogs. When I was a kid, we ate a whole lot of beans and weenies. Kind of burned out on that dish. I miss my hot dog toaster, lost in a series of cross-country moves.

So, I decided to gently simmer them with some sauerkraut. Might sound like more of a fall preparation, but what the heck? It tasted great. Especially with Organicville's Yellow Mustard.

What's your favorite way to do up a dog?

-- Leslie Kelly

How do you

To Sauce Or Not To Sauce: The Great Grilling Question

I was so thrilled to get a call the other day from the son of a dear friend. He wanted my advice on how to cook ribs. He's never eaten my barbecue, but he figures I might know a thing or three after living in Memphis, Tenn., for a few years.

There were some delicious lessons learned down South, especially when I took a seminar in judging competition Q. You know how people describe the ultimate rib as a falling-off-the-bone tender experience? That's not what you're going for during competition. The best barbecue ribs need a little tug, the meat has a firm (not chewy) texture.

The thing I find lacking in many rib preparations I've tried in restaurants outside the South is that the kitchen doesn't trim up the rib. The flap of flesh remains intact, so it adds to the cooking time, but not the overall enjoyment because that piece of meat is generally chewy. 

Depending on who's cooking, the ribs are mopped with a vinegar-y sauce throughout the low-and-slow process or they're basted in sauce at the end so they develop a nice char. I like 'em both ways, though usually prefer the sauce on the side. I love them cooked off the fire, but finished with a little sear.

Those were the instructions I gave to the aspiring pitmaster. I heard back from him a couple of days later and he said the ribs were great. Score!

So how do you roll with your rack of ribs? Sauce or no sauce while cooking? The ribs in the photo, by the way, were sauced and served at one of my favorite neighborhood restaurants in Seattle. Those Kansas City-style ribs are a summer feature at Crow.

-- Leslie Kelly