The best barbecue from around the world

[ha_banos]

8 hours ago, Chibearsv said:

In the USA, using a smoker is barbecue. Otherwise, you’re grilling whether using gas or coals. My neighbor grilled steaks this week on his gas grill that were fantastic. That Greek Philistine knows how to use fire, no matter how it’s fueled. 😁

What a pile of .... wood pellets! 

I just don't know whether I'm bbqing, grilling or not anymore! 

[Fsonicsmith]

I have not posted here in quite a while. BBQ is a passion of mine. Talking about BBQ in the USA generates not just honest debate but degenerates easily into vitriol. What follows is not meant to anger anyone and is my humble opinion after forty years in the pursuit of great BBQ. Someone mentioned Austin-style BBQ as the pantheon of American 'Q. I don't disagree. Some validly argue that all of rock and roll owes its genesis to African American culture. I think this is not only true but applies equally to what we know as BBQ in the US. In fact, I think it is inarguable. To most of us, as stated elsewhere, it is about low and slow indirect smoking of meat with wood. Not with gas and wood chunks which is how 95% of BBQ vendors outside TX cook their meat. Not with lump and wood chunks which is how Big Green Egg and the rest of the ceramic cookers work (and I own and love my BGE XL). NOT with pellets despite the convenience and success at competition BBQ (to equate competition BBQ with great BBQ is a mistake; competition 'Q is geared to impressing judges with one bite). 

There is an absolute art-form involved in cooking meat low and slow with indirect heat using wood. The design and fabrication of the pit in terms of thermodynamics and allowing for consistency regardless of weather conditions while being durable. The selection, seasoning, and splitting of the wood. The selection of the meat in terms of source, grade, and quality. Fire management which entails a clean burning fire and avoiding off-flavors. Techniques during the cook to promote tenderness, optimum rendering of fat, avoiding dryness,  and avoiding mushy pot roast-like results, all to develop flavor, tenderness, and moistness. 

Just my 2 cents about American BBQ. I feel fortunate that friends and family rave about my BBQ and don't miss an opportunity to enjoy it. It literally does draw all of us together. 

[Nevrknow]

Pissed away time getting my beef ribs so 2 pork butts tomorrow! Hello 4 o’clock in the am. Rolling smoke! Light smoke on the smoker and heavy from the cigar. I hope. 😁

Agreed. Only cooked 2 10lb butts today. There is NONE left! I’m happy. 😁

[Fuzz]

If you're outside and cooking over fire, then it is bbq. And who invented it? Some Neanderthal thousands of years ago, who accidentally left his fresh kill too close to his fire or found a smouldering carcass, realising that fire plus meat was good.

I still remember a time in high school when @jay8354 and I got roped into helping out with cooking the bbq lunch for the rest of our classmates during a school camp. We were directed to the bbq (gas hot plate used in most public parks) and a mountain of sausages piled up to one side. The teacher who was cooking (Mr Millwood) was taking sausages, pressing them down onto the grill with his tongs, flipping them on each side for 20 seconds till they browned, then tossed the still raw inside sausage in the "done" pile. Another teacher looked on and quietly whispered to Millwood, "Those sausages aren't done". Millwood answered back, "Ah, they're kids. They'll eat anything". Jase and I looked on a bit shocked and started cooking our own sausages. When we saw our friends in the line, we called them over to take from our pile, telling them, "Take these ones, they're fully cooked. The others are still raw!".

Yes, I know cooking on a gas hot plate isn't really bbq, but that's what most people call bbq'ing. The only other bbq we had were grills using Heat Beads (compressed charcoal beads). I still remember when the public bbqs were griils with a pile of wood next to it (council would stack piles of wood for use) and you'd grab some fallen eucalyptus branches or the bark to start the fire. All that ended sometime in the 80's, replaced by the gas hot plates, but now all public bbqs are electric.

[Bill Hayes]

The Aussie BBQ - 

The Tong-Master, my mate Griff, was at the barbecue, and Joel was at the barbecue and I was also at the barbecue. Three men standing around a barbecue, sipping beer, staring at sausages, rolling them backwards and forwards, never leaving them alone. We didn't know why we were at the barbecue; we were just drawn there like moths to a flame. The barbecue was a powerful gravitational force, a man-magnet.

Joel said "The thin ones could use a turn", I said "Yeah mate, I reckon the thin ones could use a turn". Griff said "yeah they really need a turn". It was a unanimous turning decision. Griff was the Tong-Master, a true artist. He gave a couple of practice snaps of his long silver tongs, SNAP SNAP, before moving in, prodding, teasing, and with an elegant flick of his wrist, rolling them onto their little backs. A lesser tong-man would've flicked too hard; the sausages would've gone full circle, back to where they started. "Nice" I said. The others went "yeah".

Kevin was passing us, he heard the siren song - the sizzle of the snags, the barbecue was calling, beckoning, Kevinnnnn .... come heeeere. He stuck his head in and said, "Any room"? We said "yeah" and begun the barbecue shuffle. Griff shuffled to the left, Joel shuffled to the left, I shuffled to the left, Kevin slipped in beside me and we sipped our beer. Now there were four of us staring at the sausages and Griff gave me the nod - my cue.

I was second-in-command, and I had to take the raw sausages out of the plastic bag and lay them on the barbecue; not too close together, not too far apart, curl them into each other's bodies like lovers - fat ones, thin ones, herbed and continental. The chipolatas were tiny, they could easily slip down between the grill, falling into the molten hot-bead-netherworld below. Carefully I laid them sideways ACROSS the grill, clever thinking. Griff snapped his tongs with approval; there was no greater barbecue honour.

P.J came along, he said "looking good, looking good" - the irresistible lure of the barbecue had pulled him in too. We said "yeah", and did the shuffle, left, left, left, left, he slipped in beside Kevin, and we sipped our beer. Five men, lots of sausages.

Joel was the Fork-pronger; he had the fork that pronged the tough hides of the snags and he showed a lot of promise. Stabbing away eagerly, leaving perfect little vampire holes up and down the casing. P.J was shaking his head, he said "I reckon they cook better if you don't poke them".

There was a long silence, you could have heard a chipolata drop, and this newcomer was a rabble-rouser, bringing in his crazy ideas from outside. He didn't understand the hierarchy; first the Tong-Master, then the Sausage-layer, then the Fork-pronger - and everyone below was just a watcher. Maybe eventually they'll move up the ladder, but for now - don't rock the Webber.

Nolyine popped her head in; "hmmmm, smells good", she said. She was trying to jostle into the circle; we closed ranks, pulling our heads down and our shoulders in, mumbling "yeah yeah", but making no room for her. She was keen, going round to the far side of the barbecue, heading for the only available space.... the gap in the circle where all the smoke and ashes blew. Nobody could survive the gap; Nolyine was going to try. She stood there stubbornly, smoke blinding her eyes, ashes filling her nostrils, sausage fat spattering all over her arms and face, until she couldn't take it any more, she gave up and backed off. Kevin waited until she was gone and sipped his beer. We sipped our beer, "yeah".

Griff handed me his tongs. I looked at him and he nodded. I knew what was happening, I'd waited a long time for this moment - the abdication. The tongs weighed heavy in my hands, firm in my grip. Was I ready for the responsibility?

Yes, I was. I held them up high and they glinted in the sun. Don't forget to turn the thin ones Griff said, as he walked away from the barbecue, disappearing toward the house. "Yeah" I called back, "I will, I will". I snapped the tongs twice, SNAP SNAP, before moving in, prodding, teasing, and with an elegant flick of my wrist, rolling them back onto their little bellies. I was a natural; I was the TONG MASTER, but only until Griff got back from the dunnie.

 

[Fuzz]

Ahh, yes, the Tong Master. A coveted title that can only be earned after long hours slaving over a hot grill, arms splattered and scarred from hot fat and grease, eyes burned from smoke, clothes pockmarked with burn holes from errant flying hot ash... all for someone to complain, "This one's a little burnt. mate".

[bmac]

On 5/27/2024 at 6:34 AM, Drguano said:

With the one and only Nakamura at Big Bob Gibson in Decatur AL…

Number one for me and their white sauce is money