Father’s Day: Kansas City Ribs
Forgive me if my rib tale goes on a little long, but its a tasty story worth telling.
In our hyper-materialist society, it can be easy to lose track of what family and celebrations are all about. In my youth, holidays were all about presents. In my 20s, they provided excuses to throw parties. These days, I’m most interested in good food and company. Living alone, I rarely make fancy food for myself. I require an audience if I’m going to fuss in the kitchen. There’s nothing better than an appreciative audience.
My step father is a good man, and truly treasures good food, especially barbecue, particularly pork ribs. Because Father’s Day and his birthday are so close on the calendar, we usually celebrate both at once. I never have to think of gift ideas. I do the same thing every year. I make him glorious barbecued ribs.
Sometimes my brother Tim and I surprise the old man with a new recipe, but this year, I gave him four recipes to choose from. He immediately decided upon Kansas City spareribs: rubbed with spices, smoked over wood, and sauced with a tangy concoction. The previous champ of rib recipes was Dr. BBQ’s, which is quite sweet and tender. I chose this year’s recipe from Weber’s Big Book of Grilling. It was a great bargain bin find with an impressive array of international recipes.
The most difficult part of making ribs is finding them. Many supermarket specimens are inferior with high price tags. Butchers are like mechanics: they are good to know. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make the time to go to Cacciatore Brothers in West Tampa– or better yet, George’s in St. Pete. These Publix ribs were passable, but barely: a 5 out of 10. I bought the only two racks they had. They were rather fatty, but I could work with them. I cut the racks in half to make them easier to handle. They also cook better this way: the thick side and thin side of the ribs cook at different rates, and i had limited smoker space.
Dry spice rubs are an excellent way to flavor meat. This rub works perfectly for fans of traditional barbecue. Grinding fresh spices with a mortar and pestle can be theraputic. It makes cooking more physical and the flavor more fresh. Mother nature sometimes demands it– rejoice!
For the rub: 2 tbl salt, 2tbl mild or hot Hungarian paprika, 1.5 tbl cumin, 1 tbl dry oregano, 2 tsp onion powder, 1 tsp garlic powder, 1 tsp fresh ground black pepper, half tsp ground allspice, half tsp ground cinnamon. I increased the recipe by half, but did not increase the salt.
Mix up the various spices and be sure they are evenly distributed.
Rubbing your meat is an act of love. Don’t be afraid to touch it often. I tend to be generous with the rub. Sauce cannot compete with this powder.
I had to smoke the ribs in two waves, so the thick sides when first. In the meantime, I whipped up a barbecue sauce. The veggies deliver great flavor, and I thank my brother Tim for his prep work on the sauce:
2 tbl unsalted butter, half cup diced celery, 3 tbl diced onion, 1 cup ketchup, 2 tbl fresh lemon juice, 2 tbl sugar, 2 tbl cider vinegar, 1bl Worcestershire sauce, 1 tsp dry mustard, and black pepper. Mix all and bring to a boil. Simmer on low 10-15 minutes. I used my wonderful new immersion blender to puree the mixture. The veggies dissolved into the mixture, thickening it. If you don’t have an immersion blender or food processor, try to cut the onions and celery as fine as you’re disposed.
The thick end of the ribs came out of the smoker juicy and fragrant. Note the meat receding from the bone to the left. The scorched rub spices make the ribs look burnt, but they are just fine.
Who’s your daddy, spareribs? If you like it rough, slap on the sauce with your brush. The thirsty exterior of the hot ribs drinks in the sauce quickly.
The next day, a treasured Father’s Day feast was delivered with the help of my beloved mother. Her fruity veggie slaw on the left featured fresh mango with a lively dressing. Real bacon bits brought pleasing flavors to her baked beans. The fresh corn was appreciated. I heated the ribs gently in the 350 degree oven for about 15 minutes.
Pop moaned and grunted as he tasted each layer of flavor shellacked on those ribs, one pleasant surprise after another. He tasted the love and instinctively understood. In the words of the Great Brillat-Savarin: “A man becomes a cook, but he is born a roaster of flesh.”
Mom’s raspberry cheese cake was divine.
I don’t want to feature many photos of people on this site, but the meat here seems luminous with a reddish hue. The ribs don’t look bad, either.