David Atwood

I’m no chef. I’m not even a cook. I grill…meat…ribs to be sure. This space is not degenerating, or ascending, depending on your point of view, to a cooking column, but I’ve been asked for my recipe and I acquiesce. I shall reveal all…well, most all.

I have friends who love my ribs. These friends hint that it’s time to do ribs and to invite them over. I have friends who are only friends because I do ribs. They’re the ones who, when the ribs are late coming off the gill, pace the floor and are later distinguished by, “We hate to eat and run, but…”  All want my recipe, and I’ve told them, as I’m going to tell you, but nobody believes me. It’s so simple people think I’m withholding some dark secret. Secrets take effort.

See, I am lazy, and I do not like to cook; it is too much work. It has to be simple and easy, thus, my recipe. Here we go:

Rub down the ribs, both sides with a dry rub the night before you are going to cook them and keep them refrigerated. Slap Ya’ Mama is good stuff as are many others found on the grocer’s shelf unless you want to make your own. Guess which way I go…lazy. Don’t overdo the rub, most go a long way. I guess I should have started with a culinary phrase such as, “season to taste”. I ain’t no gourmet.

Build a small fire in such a way that you can feed it as the day wears on. My grill allows for indirect heat, and that is the only way go. Flames are a big no-no. Your fire should be between two hunert, and two hunert and fifty degrees. Maybe that’s “hunnert”; I’m never sure. The key is to cook the ribs s – l – o – w. That is to say, not fast. If you don’t have a goodly portion of the day to dedicate to this task, don’t insult the ribs by trying.

You’ve got to check them every half-hour, that’s about every other commercial if you’re watching a ball game, to add charcoal and smoke as you go. Smoke is the key. You need lots of smoke, little heat, and did I mention s – l – o – w?

You place the ribs on the grill bowl side up, or for you scientific types, the concave side up, and you don’t turn them…ever…lazy. If you break a sweat doing this, you’re doing something wrong.

They’re done when the meat pulls away from the ends of the bones. Depending on your grill, that could be anywhere from two-and-a-half to three hours on up to four to six hours. You can consult a cookbook about cooking pork and use a meat thermometer, or do as my daddy taught me, put your fingers on the meat and count, “one Mississippi, two Mississippi”…  If you get to five Mississippi, they ain’t done. I get to ten Mississippi these days. It could have something to do with the scars on my fingertips.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot, the smoke!  That’s the real secret. Let me tell you how. It comes from wood. You burn it…slow. Told ya’ I’d reveal all…most.