Uptown Food and Wine: Confessions of a Grill Master
By Ron James

I’m sitting at home in front of my monitor sweating bullets. Not because of writer’s block or my looming deadline. I’m sweating because it’s hot — a searing 109-ish degrees.

This kind of heat wave forces many of us off the couch and to the grill for the very first time. The folks from Weber Grills must love super-hot days.

I’m not sure when and why I started grilling many years ago. I suppose it was a dad thing — he did it and it looked cool. So I do it. And over the years, I’ve burned enough meat to become pretty good around the fire. But regardless of how good you think you are now, there are milestones and memories that most intrepid grill masters have — some in common, some unique.

For most grillers, the first major challenge (pre-gas and instant-start charcoal) is just getting the damned coals to light. Squirting vast streams of charcoal lighter — or for the more adventurous, lighter fluid — usually did the trick. But, of course, for several weeks everything you grill tastes as if it had been marinated in jet fuel.

The second memory most of us have is the attempt to grill our first chicken. We flopped bird parts directly above the hot coals (reeking of lighter fluid), frantically turning them while flames singed our hands, arms and eyebrows. Then we would serve the remains as perfectly black as they were perfectly raw.

On the brighter side, one of my favorite memories was when we installed a new built-in gas grill in our outdoor kitchen. You know you’ve arrived when you own a Viking 41-inch outdoor gas grill. After nearly four decades of grilling on the Chevrolets and Fords of grills, I now owned the Mercedes.

My last propane grill was so bad that I had to move stuff around a two-inch hot spot to get anything to a reasonable doneness. And I usually had to do it in the dark. I called it Zen BBQ. Now, with my years of trial-by-fire experience and my new and trusted stainless steel cooking machine, I considered myself a wizard who could do no harm to fish nor fowl — or even a steak.

My confidence was tested soon after when my son Aaron mentioned an article he’d read in The New York Times by Chris Schlesinger, noted chef and author of my favorite BBQ books, “Thrill of the Grill” and “Let the Flames Begin.” The article was about Chris spending all night and the next morning preparing a quintessential American meal featuring North Carolina-style pulled pork sandwiches.
“I’ll bet you can’t do that with your gas grill,” Aaron said casually, knowing that he had laid down the grilling gauntlet.

“I can do that,” I sputtered, “I can pull pork with the best of them.”

Truthfully, I knew squat about pulled pork. But, after a bit of research and a thorough reading of the New York Times story, I figured I could pull it off — so to speak. There was one thing that gnawed on me — why did Chris Schlesinger end the pulled-pork recipe with “do not try this on a gas grill?” A charcoal elitist, I speculated.

I’d never knowingly purchased a pork butt until that weekend. It is a tough, fatty piece of meat that’s really part of the pig’s front shoulder, not the rear as the name would suggest. The only proper way to tame this beast is to slow cook it.

And hopefully, when properly grilled, it would be tender, smoky and delicious.

Normally you won’t find pork butts in your supermarket meat display — most folks just don’t know what to do with them. But if you ask the supermarket butcher, as I did, there’s a good chance that they will have a couple in the back cooler for the hard-core griller. We got a whopping 10-pounder.

We used Chris Schlesinger’s recipe for a pulled pork rub. I washed the meat, patted it almost dry with a paper towel and liberally coated the entire roast. I pre-heated the grill and placed soaked mesquite chips and a bit of the water into the smoker. After placing the pork butt fat side down, I closed the hood and kept the heat low to about 200 degrees.

I left it there for six hours and then turned it. Wow. It was golden-brown and the smoky smell was wonderful. I added wood chips to the smoker every hour or so. The smoke would sometimes waft into the house, which still has a slight mesquite forest fire smell to it. After another three hours it looked done.

I knew I’d hit a home run when I put the meat thermometer into the roast — it just slid in, I didn’t push at all. After I took the roast off the grill I let it rest for about 30 minutes.
Using just two forks the pork came off with ease. The thin outside coating was dark brown and crispy, and the inside moist and tender and very tasty. We served it on white hamburger buns with Schlesinger sauce drizzled on top and added a side of coleslaw and corn on the cob. An unforgettable meal.

Oh, remember Chris Schlesinger cautioned not to do this on a gas grill? Well I did do it with gas and it turned out great. I was pretty smug about that until the next day when I found out why you don’t use a gas grill for pulled pork.

As I preheated my grill for salmon fillets, all hell broke loose. The massive amount of fat rendered from the roast remained in the bottom grill pan and had ignited, with flames reaching the patio roof. I found my fire extinguisher and quickly put the fire out.
It took another month to figure out another major reason not to use a gas grill for pulled pork. We got our utility bill and was shocked it had gone through the roof — the pulled-pork adventure had cost us at least an additional $50 in natural gas.

So here’s a most tasty alternative recipe I got from chef Bradford Thompson, who was named one of 2004’s Best New Chefs by Food & Wine magazine. It was a real crowd-pleaser when he served it at the Aspen Wine and Food Classic.

It’s not exactly grilling, but you can get an extension cord, take the crock-pot outside and pretend it’s a Weber. You’ll save a lot of money and won’t burn the house down.

LOW/SLOW-COOKED JERK PORK

Juice of 2 oranges
1 (1-inch) piece ginger, grated
2 tablespoons Jule’s Gourmet Jerk or other jerk sauce available at most specialty food markets
2 carrots, cut in large dice
1/4 cup ketchup
1 cup water or beer
1 (8- to 12-pound) pork shoulder, split into 3 or 4 pound pieces
Salt and pepper, to taste
Avocados, for garnish
Lime juice, for garnish
Yields 32 to 48 servings.

In large bowl, combine orange juice, ginger, jerk sauce, carrots, ketchup, and beer or water. Marinate pork in liquid overnight in a nonreactive bowl or dish.
Remove pork pieces from marinade. Season to taste with salt and paper. In sauté pan over high heat sear pork pieces for about three minutes per side. Allow to cool slightly and drain excess fat from pan.
Place marinade ingredients into slow cooker with heat on low setting. Place pork over marinade and cook for 9 hours.
Remove meat from crock-pot and allow it to stand for 20 minutes. Slice or chop meat thinly.
While meat sets, place liquid from crock-pot into blender and blend until fully combined. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Pour sauce over sliced meat and keep in warm pan until ready to serve.
Serve on simple white bread rolls or hamburger buns. Garnish with mashed, ripe avocado seasoned to taste with salt, pepper and lime juice.
— Adapted from Bradford Thompson’s recipe.

Ron James is a wine and food columnist and radio host whose columns and features have appeared in newspapers and magazines across the country.