Summer is upon us, and though weather patterns seem to be quite unpredictable, we here in the Pacific Northwest understand that these are our three months where it’s not raining constantly. In celebration of this, many of us do delightful and pleasant recreational things, such as visiting our beaches or coastal environs, camping in our forests, and, of course, engaging in the fine art of barbecue.
Barbecue has a storied history, which I won’t get into, as that’d be an article in of itself. However, my recent interests have involved the barbecue grill’s cousin: the smoker.
For gear, I have a mid-level vertical pellet smoker. Not one of those fancy ones or anything, as I ain’t got that kinda dough. It’s basically just a box with smoke in it. A couple of hundred bones, it cost me. Now, perhaps you’re thinking, "well, fuck you, that’s still more than I care to pay to smoke things, I got kids to feed and strippers to tip," well, you’re right. If it’s not accessible, then why bother? However, hope is not lost. One can get that sweet-ass smoke, even if all you have is a teeny little charcoal Hibachi grill or a flaming garbage can. Search for a device called a "smoke tube"—a ten-to-twenty-dollar-ish little contraption that can hold wood chips or pellets and will bring the smoke flavor to you for cheap!
I was once told by a pit master at a barbecue joint that "smoke turns time into flavor," and I cannot disagree. I’ve had a few cabinet smokers over the years and a number of grills. I recently picked up a new smoker on sale, which I initially thought of as a smoky meat bookcase...and then, something got into my head. Something weird—something that was like Kevin Costner in "Field of Dreams" weird. A little voice in the back of my head, which instead of "if you build it, they will come," said, "smoke fucking everything." I listened to this voice.
Now, I’m not the world’s best barbecuer, nor am I the worst. Fairly average, I’d say. I’ve smoked plenty of pork butts, briskets, ribs, sausages, and all the usual picnic fare, and people ate them with no complaints or sudden illness/death. Over the last little while, however, I’ve decided to put myself to the test, though it is entirely possible I’m neck-deep in some kind of...barbecue psychosis. Either way, I wanted to see how deep down the smoked-stuff rabbit hole I could go. Precise instructions will not be provided, as all smokers and grills differ; plus, I’d rob you all of the joy of discovery, but I’ll give you the gist.
The whole endeavor took a turn from the traditional into the odd, and I’m not looking back. I intend to smoke life itself, or at least anything I can eat. Though, what did I actually do in my smoke mania?
Well, here’s the list. Not ranked in any particular order.
You can smoke pie. The pie I smoked was a pot pie, so definitely on the savory side. Sweet pies may indeed be smoked, and if you’re messin’ around, I’d suggest strawberry-rhubarb for that. However, a pot pie, as people often make (or just buy from the store, let’s not kid ourselves), can indeed be cooked to perfection in a smoker at oven temps for about an hour-ish. Also, when you smoke a pot pie, the crust edges don’t get burnt like in an oven unless you fall asleep, awaken 8 hours later wondering what that smell is, yell, "Oh shit," run out back, tear your sock on a nail, trip, smash your face on the ground, and lay there, covered in blood, weeping for your pot pie.
Yeah, cheesecake. You see, a smoker is a lot like an oven. You can track temperatures and keep time, and while it’s not as consistent as an oven, it comes with smoke flavor. I hickory-smoked a cheesecake just like you’d bake one in an oven. Same deal, just smoke it hot until it resembles a proper...fucking cheesecake. Smoking stuff involves a lot of poking. Poke often, and if your poking spear comes out clean, you’re probably good. Of note, I am pretty sure this made someone at my backyard BBQ have a spontaneous orgasm.
Sauerkraut is somewhat controversial. Well, not "controversial" in that it sparks arguments, but you really either love it or you hate it. If pickled cabbage isn’t on your playlist, don’t bother, but if it is, you can smoke it for an hour at a low temperature, and it’ll be the best damn ’kraut you could ask for. I’ve had to put up a fence to keep hungry Germans off my property.
Yeah, like you’d put in a turkey or serve with pork chops. Bread soaks up smoke. You really only need like ten minutes or so to get a smoke-drenched pile of stale bread and herbs to go with dinner. When I made this, turkeys walked on to my lawn out of nowhere and begged to be crammed full of it.
Yup, you can smoke gravy. It doesn’t matter what kind. Keep the heat low and smoke it for a half-hour. It’ll make you want to kick people in the head, make meatloaf out of their supple head-meats, and dump the gravy on that headloaf.
Yes. You can actually smoke mayonnaise. Put a dish of it above a bowl of ice and smoke it at a fairly low temperature for a short time, and you can have "smayo." The same goes for mustard or even ketchup, but those do not need the ice. Even if you were to put smoked condiments on a nasty fast-food burger, it’d make it seem like it came from one of those places where you get looked at with disdain by the staff for existing.
I am 100% into this. Smoking makes even those lame instant mashed potatoes into gods among tubers. You may scoff, but this is probably the best invention since people learned how to jack off. Smoke ’em at whatever temp, high or low, for about a half-hour. Warning, though: you will never again be satisfied by regular mashed taters.
Yes, I actually did this. I smoked them. Not gonna lie; I may have gone a little nuts. Though I did eat them, I’m still not sure if they were good or bad. Imagine a fruit snack with a savory wood-smoke flavor on top of its sugary tone. Has science gone too far?
One of those "dad sneakers," but just one. I always wonder about the circumstances that lead to only one shoe being in the street. My assumption is that someone had to run from an angry dog or something, then one of their shoes fell off, but they kept on going. Anyhow, I gave the sneaker to my angry dog, who likes chasing people, and he seemed to enjoy gnawing on it.
Well, that’s the list, so if you needed any ideas for your backyard barbecue events, I hope you are now inspired to push the boundaries, all in the name of deliciousness.
Wombstretcha the Magnificent is a joker, smoker, midnight toker, writer, and retired rapper from Portland, Oregon. He can be found at Wombstretcha.com, on Twitter as @Wombstretcha503 and on Facebook (boo!) and MeWe (yay!) as "Wombstretcha The Magniflcent."
