A couple of
years ago, I gave a mini-tutorial of Daddy’s
Ribs and because I didn’t identify the secret spices, I am back for the
tutorial for Boston butts and pork shoulders. You’re going to need to have
plenty of downtime if a reliable citizen of the community who can manage
temperature while you sleep is unavailable; most of time, I cook my butts and
shoulders overnight as the rest of the world slumbers. Perhaps it’s a byproduct
of working overnights for the past decade and I bet that has quite a bit to do
with it, yet I’m also certain the proliferation of barbecue shows on TV and
YouTube have had something to do with it.
But before I
get into smoking pork butts and shoulders, this is the story of how I got into
the barbecue business: Several years
ago, my girlfriend (now wife) and I moved in together and as new Saline County
residents, we sampled a lot of restaurant food for the first few months. Her
cousin recommended a barbecue joint in town which shall remain nameless because
it seemed to have that Everyman appeal, so naturally we drove over one Saturday
afternoon. To summarize the trip, I was less than impressed with what the
locals called barbecue, and the racist treatment we received sure didn’t help
my perception of the joint. To this day I don’t know how that joint stays open
nor do I care if they ever turn a profit.
As I became
a homeowner, my priorities shifted from dealing with mediocre barbecue to
making my own great chow; over the course of the past four years, what seemed
to simply be a hobby has migrated to a viable way toward providing a living and
(potentially) being at home each night with my family. I haven’t quite figured
out how or when to take that leap of faith, but it is in my prayers that
becoming a small business owner affords me the time with them and a comfortable
lifestyle. Just as athletes spend hours practicing shooting jump shots or
public figures practice public speaking, I’ve had to work at becoming a pit
master through hours of trial and error, new equipment and its idiosyncrasies,
fire management (I don’t do gas or electric), and learning how to cook various
meats. There are some things I haven’t tried yet such as alligator and mutton,
and stuff that I wouldn’t get anywhere near like roadkill.
For today
let’s focus on Boston butts and pork shoulders. If you recall reading Dad’s Stress Reliever from two years ago, I did walk you through how I cook
ribs on my beloved Oklahoma Joe smoker. Here’s what you need to make comparable
meat that everyone will love you for:
Dub Shack BBQ Pulled Pork
Yellow Mustard
Big 6 Dry Rub (I still won’t reveal
the secret spices)
Applewood chunks
Mop Sauce
Apple juice or apple cider vinegar
½ can beer or soda of your choice
Honey
Hot Sauce
Barbecue sauce of your choice
First things
first: When you unwrap the meat from its
packaging for the first time, please do not forget to wash off the meat of any
phosphates or chemicals that helped keep its color in the store! It is also
extremely important that the meat gets handled with clean hands because of food
safety. In the restaurant or along the side of the road, gloves are expected;
at home, our hands still need to be clean before handling food to prevent
contamination.
Once meat is
washed and patted dry, cover the butt up with yellow mustard. Trust me, you
won’t be able to taste it; mustard serves as a binder for the Big 6 Rub or
whatever you want to use on it. Be certain to cover every space on the meat for
the mixture to stick – in this case, it will find its happy place and adapt to
the meat. This is also how the bark – the dark outside pieces – is formed. [On
pork shoulders, don’t worry about seasoning the fat cap; no one is going to eat
it. You can use cooking spray on the cap but that is primarily for presentation
purposes on the circuit. I know the ancestors made cracklin’ with their fat
caps, but I just throw the inedible stuff away.] Once seasoned, let it sit at
least one hour preferably 8-12 hours or overnight for the flavors to permeate
into the meat.
Go outside and
light your smokers!
Seriously,
light your smokers.
I’ve taken a
real liking to lump charcoal recently since it burns so cleanly and for this
cook, I normally start out with a pyramid of the stuff with some hickory wood
surrounding it and the most unlikely fire starter: dryer lint. Light and wait for the coals to
ash over before placing the meat on the smoker; for the analytical among us,
watch your temperature gauges to determine when you want to begin your cook. On
average, I’ll wait 45 minutes to an hour for coals and wood to ash over before
adding Applewood chunks to the fire and positioning the meat onto the smoker.
Because my first few hours’ cooks have had some wide disparities before the
temperature settles, I’d start cooking at 275 degrees and keep an eye on the
spikes. Large pieces of meat are meant to be cooked LOW and SLOW. You’re not
getting this goodness in a few quick hours.
In the
meantime, make your mop sauce to baste your pork. If it comes out dry, there
isn’t enough barbecue sauce in the world that can fix that mistake. Everyone
has a slight variation of how their mop is made if you can get the three
components balanced in the cup/container/spritz bottle: sweet, tangy, and with some semblance of heat.
Mix it up to a consistency you can live with – the mop sauce helps keep your
rub on the meat and accentuates that this is barbecue. I mop every 1 ½ hours
because the last thing I want to do is lose that hard-earned smoke and steady
temperature by opening my smoker more frequently. Doing so also means that the
meat will tenderize itself over time. Also, you don’t have to worry about
turning over pork of this magnitude since the fat cap is down on the grates
rendering itself into extra-tasty food for everybody. In lieu of Miller Lite, I
have used A&W or Dr. Pepper but that is just personal preference. With
barbecue, make it your own.
I have a
strange proclivity for overnight cooks thanks to the lunch crowds at my regular
gig; if you’re fortunate enough to cook during the day, please start early in
the morning. Meat isn’t done until it’s done, and I’d rather you not embarrass
yourself with some fast-cooked unseasoned bloody excuse of pulled pork in front
of a larger group.
The miracle
of time: eight to ten hours have passed, and the backyard is littered with beer
cans and tall tales. Oh yeah, and the smoker has been working around 250 but
the job isn’t quite complete. Because I could use a nap, I’ll get a couple of
sheets of aluminum foil to wrap the butts or shoulder assuming the bark is up
to snuff. This is what the guys on the circuit call the “Texas crutch” which
the meat maintains the hold of its juices as it is cooking wrapped. Feel free
to pour the remainder of the mop sauce onto the meat – this is the reason why I
don’t use store-bought sauces on my backyard meals. Once wrapped, find a way to
maintain smoker temperature for the next four hours or until the internal
temperature is about 200 degrees; it isn’t done until it’s done. Fortunately
for us, we can tell Boston butts are ready when we can pull the bone out
cleanly with no struggle; ditto for pork shoulders.
Once off the
smoker and the clean bone is out of the butt, let it rest for fifteen minutes before
pulling it apart and serving your guests!
Remember, every day is a GREAT day for barbecue! Get
out there and share what you just learned.
