ArtsEtc.
BBQ reveals saucy past
Looking for a print version?
Simply use your browser’s ‘Print’ command and a printer-friendly document will be generated automatically.
Also by Jason Engelhart:
- Cuisine inspires potent quotables (April 30, 2008)
- Proper grill etiquette, unique food spices up summer (April 23, 2008)
- Carbonation: Chemistry behind prickly past (April 16, 2008)
- Barnes leaves music lovers hungry (April 2, 2008)
- Asparagus hints at feast to come (April 2, 2008)
With Madison’s 100 inches of snow finally melting, the season of warm weather cuisine is officially upon us. The sunshine beating down on the Capitol dome is a sign of the upcoming months filled with springtime and summertime foods.
The seasons ahead hold a cornucopia of light, refreshing foods like ice cream, sweet corn and watermelon. For the meat lovers among us, though, the most exciting of these vernal delights is neither fresh produce nor frozen treats but barbecue, the king of all meat preparations.
To many people in this part of the country, “barbecue” is a verb synonymous with “grill.” However, for Americans in the southern and western regions of the nation, barbecue is a noun that describes fall-off-the-bone-tender meats cooked slowly over a smoky fire. It goes without saying that true barbecue is light years away from humble brats and burgers.
With the popularity of chain restaurants like Famous Dave’s and Chili’s, most Wisconsinites have at least experienced a goodheartedly bastardized version of this delicacy. However, precious few northerners are privy to its history, cooking methods and regional variations.
Barbecue probably began in the 1500s, when West Indian natives likely taught Spanish settlers how to build a device called a barbacoa. It consisted of a rack of immature wood placed over coals that allowed the natives to cook their meats slowly with the use of indirect heat. However, pork, the most common meat in modern American barbecue, was not native to the region, so the Spanish were probably the first to use a barbacoa to produce the tender pork barbecue we know and love today.
The West Indians, the Spanish and the American pitmasters who followed in their footsteps all knew that secret to making great barbecue lies in the mantra “low and slow.” By cooking at low temperatures for several hours, it is possible to render tough, inexpensive cuts of meat more succulent than filet mignon.
This seemingly alchemical process leads many people to wonder how the meat becomes so tasty. One common myth is that barbecue is pleasantly juicy merely because it is undercooked. The pink “smoke ring” on the inside of properly prepared barbecue has led many otherwise perfectly rational omnivores to believe this lie.
Luckily for digestive tracts all across the country, barbecue’s tenderness is not a result of undercooking. The smoke ring is a result of a chemical reaction caused by nitrogen dioxide in smoke, and barbecue reaches an internal temperature that is about 30 degrees warmer than a medium rare steak. It might seem, then, that barbecue is overcooked meat, but this is not the case, either.
The reason for this lies in an important difference between meats used for barbecue and meats used for grilling. The former are generally inexpensive cuts full of collagen; if such meats were simply seared to doneness on the grill, they would come out tough and unappetizing. The reason for the seemingly overcooked meat’s succulence is at around 160 degrees, the collagen in the meat begins to turn into liquid gelatin and coat the meat fibers. The proteins that once made the meat unappetizingly tough ultimately come to give it a uniquely appealing texture.
Even though the principle of slow heat and long cooking time underlies all barbecue preparation, the dish varies considerably from place to place.
The style that probably seems most foreign to residents of the upper Midwest is the dry rub style popular in areas such as Texas and Memphis. Although it is more common to cook beef in Texas and pork in Tennessee, the two styles share a similar process.
This genre of ‘cue places emphasis on the actual meat itself. Residents of these parts of the country would argue that no matter one’s personal taste, barbecue must be palatable without sauce. The only liquid that touches the meat during cooking is a “mop sauce” that usually consists of beef broth, ketchup and spices. When the meat is done cooking, though, its exterior is relatively dry, and it is up to the diner to decide whether he or she wants to add sauce.
The reigning styles of barbecue in St. Louis and Kansas City are on the other side of the sauce spectrum. Although the sauce in Kansas City tends to be thicker and sweeter than that in St. Louis, the two varieties use a similar cooking technique. In preparing both kinds of barbecue, cooks begin with a dry cooking method such as grilling or roasting, and they finish the meats in a slowly simmering sauce.
A third style of barbecue — that of the Carolinas — defines itself not by its position on the wet-dry spectrum but on the sheer diversity of its sauces. In North Carolina, three sauces are common: the vinegar and pepper sauce native to the region, the “light tomato” sauce that results from the addition of ketchup and the “heavy tomato” sauce that dominates Kansas City barbecue. South Carolinians use these three as well as a fourth type of sauce, a mustard-based condiment that is a result of 18th-century German migration to the state. Although Carolinian pitmasters are every bit as serious about cooking as those in other parts of the country, it is the diversity of sauces, not their techniques, that makes their style of barbecue special.
While there are definite regional trends in barbecue, no absolute geographical categorizations are completely fair. One can find proponents of “saucier” styles of barbecue in regions that are supposedly dry-rub country and vice versa. Furthermore, there are even subtler nuances to barbecue once one becomes more specific about its state, city or even establishment of origin. Nevertheless, regional labels are helpful insofar as they help to shed light on the diversity of this warm weather delicacy.
Jason Engelhart is a senior majoring in economics and history. You may contact him with questions, comments, concerns, financial advice and recipes at jengelhart@badgerherald.com.
1 Comment | Leave a comment
Leave a comment
Top Classified Ads (view all)
Place your classified ad online and have it show up here. Your ad will hit thousands of viewers a day!
DON'T READ ME! Too late. If you're reading this, guess how many other people are reading it. See... advertising in The Badger Herald does work!






IP hash: a025a548
There is nothing better than good barbecue. Excellent article.