Flesh of the Pig

by Bob Greenberg

I know for a fact that I have eaten more lousy barbecued ribs than anybody. I love ribs more than any other food, and I will foolishly risk my digestive system on any recipe or restaurant at least once. I even took 'em from the Colonel, and let me tell ya, folks, they are the worst of all time. They were broasted, just like the chicken, in a batter and pressure cooked. Horrible.

The recipes that have been foisted upon me have ranged from bad to worse. I have fried, boiled, baked, breaded, simmered, and candied them. Every packaged barbecue sauce in the stores, and every one you make at home have found their way into my suffering stomach. I have had Mexican ribs that burn your insides, and expensive ribs in a ritzy restaurant that burn your outside. They cooked 'em up Texas style, Missouri style, soul style, Chinese style, and every other style -- and they all fall short.

I thank God that I didn't give up, because I stumbled into that magic system that I had been looking for all my life, and I did it by accident. You are now going to read the TRUTH about flesh of the pig. You are going to read the recipe that works. You are going to make ribs that are so good, that most people will not use any sauce on them!

Now, before I spill the beans on the recipe, let me tell you about sauces. There is one sauce that comes in a bottle that I use. Open Pit Barbecue Sauce, made by Good Seasons, is fifty times better than the next best bottled sauce. I use sauce on my ribs -- but as I said before, most people don't. A good home brew can be concocted from other products, and I'll tell you later how to make it, and more important -- how to use it.

And now for the secret. It's my own discovery, so if it sounds familiar, just be glad that you didn't have to suffer as I did. And like all great truths, this one is as simple as they come.

THE MEAT -- Use regular old supermarket pork. This can be spare ribs, country ribs, or any other pork. Not too much fat. Cut off any gross excess. And CUT THEM TO EVEN THICKNESS. You'll ruin everything if you cook the meat unevenly. You may compensate for thick parts by scoring the meat.

Take a large baking pan, and soak the ribs in CIDER vinegar, after which sprinkle them with garlic salt and finely ground black pepper. This is store bought cider vinegar, garlic salt, and finely ground black pepper. Don't fool with pepper mills, or white or red papper. Take my word for it. The taste changes radically with differences in the grind.

Interestingly enough, it doesn't seem to matter how long the ribs Š soak. Or how much or how ittle vinegar is on them. As long as it hits all sides. You don't have to score or puncture them. The vinegar does its work with just a good splash. And what it does is to sweeten the meat. You won't believe it. If you doubt the recipe, just leave out any part of it and taste the difference. This is truly the magic combination of ingredients.

THE FIRE. Charcoal is traditional, but these new grills with stone briquets work just as well. Remember that charcoal imparts no flavor to the meat. It simply works as a method of cooking which allows the dripping juices to turn to steam, which helps the cooking process. And don't ever use charcoal in in the house. The fumes will definitely kill you. And you can start it any way you like. I prefer the electric starter for economy, and to reduce the fumes which charcoal lighters give off.

They key to the fire is hickory chips. As long as the ribs are cooking, keep feeding these amazing little fellows to the charcoal. The flavor comes out of these chips and you cannot do without them. You don't have to smother the coals with them, nor do you have to soak them in water as the package tells you. But you do have to be rady to play fireman, because between the dripping fat and the wood chips, fires are started. And a fire that lasts 30 seconds will eat your dinner before you do. Water should be kept handy. Don't worry about getting it on the ribs. Just get that fire out. The ribs will be far better off with a few drops of water on them than burnt.

COOKING. You don't need a special grill or a rotisserie. A moderately hot fire a couple of inches or more from the meat, and a grill of reasonable cleanness, and you're all set. As the meat cooks, turn it often, do not let it burn, and do not baste it with anything. Just keep dropping those chips into the fire as they are needed. Don't cover the grill, and don't stray too far -- fire is always hiding in the wings.

Here is the catch -- the trick -- the hard part. The intangible factor now is timing. You may ruin a lot of meat before you hit it, but the time to take them off the grill is one minute after trichina danger is past. In other words, as soon as the meat inside turns brown, off them come, and it's time to eat. If you leave them cook too long, everything you have just read is in vain. And if you cook them too little, your brain may rot from worms, as you learned in high school biology class. It's a tricky situation. If you have any talent at all, you will develop a sixth sense about when to pull them off the grill. A good indicator which I uses is this: there are small strips of meat which I cut off in the initial trimming process. I cook them separately and use them as an indicator of how things are going. Besides (and don't tell this to your guests) those little strips often taste better than the ribs themselves.

As I promised earlier, I have a special purpose sauce which I use. This is for reheating.

One of the problems with the refrigerator is that meat tends to dry out. Reheating your precious ribs can lead to disaster. You can Š use one of two paths. If ou reheat in the over, wrap the meat in foil and throw it in a 325 degree oven for fifteen, twenty minutes.

Or use this sauce (don't eat it cold, though -- awful!). Put a saucepan on the stove, and empty into it:

one bottle of Open Pit
one bottle of A-1 Sauce
1/4 cup of molasses

Start that heating, and put enough vinegar in the empty Open Pit bottle to rinse it out, and then pour the rinse into the pot. Put enough Worcestershire sauce in the A-1 bottle to rinse it out, and pour the rinse into the pot. When the sauce is boiling slowly, dump in the cold pork from the fridge. Heat through, and eat. It's not bad at all, and a variation from the basic recipe.

Warning: don't use this sauce cold. You can save what's left in the Open Pit bottle, but now it has pork fat in it. Very bad served cold.

Well, now you know as much as I do. And I gorge myself on these goodies at least once a week.

Bon Apetit.

Bob Greenberg, 1975

This is Bill Warren talking.

Bob Greenberg was, all in all, the best person I have ever known, however you want to measure "best." He was a dear friend not just of mine, but my wife, my other friends, and, strangely enough, almost everyone I ever encountered in Hollywood. There were more people who would name Bob Greenberg as their best friend than anyone else I have ever encountered this side of George Bailey. (And you should know who THAT is.)

Bob longed to get into films, but never really quite made it, though he worked now and again on various movies.

On his business card, however, he always had at least two items:

MOVIES and BARBECUED RIBS. His barbecued ribs were, simply, the most delicious food of any sort that I have ever encountered -- and I have encountered a lot of food. I have printed above Bob's own instructions on how to cook ribs a la Greenberg.

PLEASE TRY IT OUT. And if you like it, pass it along. Load it onto other BBS boards, give it to friends, spread it over the wide world. I earnestly request this.

With one proviso: BE SURE THAT WHOEVER GETS IT GETS IT ALL -- with Bob's name at both ends.

Bob was killed by a drunken driver in 1987. He would be pleased if what immortality he ever might get would be from the widespread dissemination of these how-to instructions for barbecued ribs. Please, please be sure his name goes with the recipe everywhere it goes. (And it really is a great rib recipe.)

One final note: I think Open Pit barbecue sauce may no longer be manufactured. Try any orange, commercial sauce; they come close to Open Pit. But it's not the sauce that's the secret, anyway.

Bill Warren, 1988