Corinne Trang

The Pitmaster and The Apprentice: Chris Lilly preaches “low and slow” BBQ…

It’s not everyday that I get to help inject, rub, pull and chop over 3000 pounds (that’s over a ton!) of pork butt and mix hundreds of pounds of coleslaw to feed thousands of hungry mouths…but on Friday, June 12, 2009 I did just that when I reported for duty at the 7th annual Big Apple BBQ Block Party at Madison Square Park in New York City.

Lined up along Madison Avenue and turning the corner and all along 26th street were barbecue rigs—aka cookers or smokers—from some of the best known BBQ joints in the country including The Salt Lick from Driftwood, Texas, Dinosaur Bar-B-Que from New York City, and the legendary Big Bob Gibson’s from Decatur, Alabama where I would be working for two nights and two days in a row, putting in long hours at the pit.

I should premise this with the fact that my fascination with true barbecue began in 1995 when I first visited Austin, TX…and before that my only experience with smoked meats were mediocre-at-best greasy baby back ribs piled up on a plate and covered in sticky, sweet reddish BBQ sauce. Served with sides of equally greasy ruffled potato chips and mayonnaise-laden coleslaw, they could be had in any number of New York City’s theme restaurants or steakhouses. So off putting were these barbecue meals—I think I may have tried 3 times before giving up—that I hesitated for a long time before giving BBQ another try…until I got to Texas, that is.

I was excited to be in Austin because I knew that BBQ was very much part of the food culture there. Of the dozen or so joints I tried in a span of 3 days, the most memorable were The Salt Lick in Driftwood and Central Market in Luling where everything from sausage, to ribs, chicken, turkey, and the much sought after Texas-style barbecue brisket were smoked using 100 percent oak wood. As the former test kitchen director of Saveur Magazine, I had also tested recipes for Kansas City-style barbecued ribs and brisket seasoned with dry rub. Maintaining my pit at a somewhat standard temperature of 225°F, the meat cooked for 12 hours or so, until fork tender. Naturally after these experiences, I knew a thing or two about barbecuing…or so I thought.

low-and-slow cooked pork butts

In October of 2007 I was invited as one of the four guest chefs at a Kingsford Charcoal event that took place just outside of Phoenix, Arizona. One evening, about 80 media guests enjoyed a horse-drawn hayride, followed by barbecue, drinks, and lively conversations at picnic tables or seated around a bonfire in the sandy desert. Just as we were about done with dinner that same horse-drawn wagon pulled up and our attention quickly turned to the tardy guest who happened to be Chris Lilly, a “pitmaster.” I didn’t know anything about him but noticed how everyone was excited to hear that he would be demonstrating barbecuing techniques during the three-day event. A fit, medium-built man with piercing greenish-gray-blue eyes, light brown hair, and sporting a goatee, he showed up wearing a cowboy hat, boots and shirt, and a pair of mildly worn out jeans. Short of wearing riding chaps, his getup, stride, and twang in his speech somehow convinced me that he might indeed know a thing or two about good ‘ol American BBQ. I was intrigued.

Chris Lilly at the Big Apple BBQ Block Party

It was late when we got back to the ranch where we were all staying, when Chris started walking over to his cooker with a bunch of us in tow. That night he started prepping pork butts. What got my attention was the syringe he picked up in his hand, filling it with a spiced, sweet and savory apple juice and Worcestershire-based liquid concoction. Holding the meat with one hand, with the other he quickly hit the butt every inch or so with this syringe, inserting and twirling it deep into the muscle. It was the first time I’d learn about injections, or injecting meats in general. Rubbed with a spice mix, the butts were loaded into the cooker. It was way passed midnight when many in our group turned in as I asked Chris how long the meat needed to cook. “Low and slow throughout the night,” he said smiling. “I’ll get some rest and will check back for temperature in the middle of the night.” The next day we all gathered around the cooker in anticipation, while Chris transferred the steaming hot meat from the cooker to the chopping board. With his gloved hands, he pressed and pulled on the meat, which came apart effortlessly. What I tasted was extraordinary and by far the best, most juicy and succulent, perfectly seasoned and balanced piece of pork I had ever eaten…so memorable, I had been craving it ever since.

“well okay Miss Corinne!” drawled the pitmaster, “let’s unpack the pork!”

Me, injecting

Fast forward to June 12, 2009…after a few phone calls over the period of a couple of months preceding the event, I had convinced Chris that I would make a great apprentice at the Big Apple BBQ Block Party. That night the fun began…“well okay Miss Corinne!” drawled the pitmaster, “let’s unpack the pork!” pointing to the too-many-to-count piled up boxes. Strong as I am, I was sure glad John, Ken, and Owen, my newfound friends (and veterans) were on the job doing their fair share of heavy lifting and encouraging me on.

And then came the moment I had been waiting for since my trip to Arizona… “Pick up the syringe!” Chris instructed. I held that syringe tight in my hand while pricking that meat like mad, squirting my eyes and prep partners a few times in the process…but fear not, at about pork butt number 30, I had my injection technique down, as the pitmaster preached “injections are a quick and more efficient way to infuse and season large cuts of meat throughout, as opposed to marinades which flavor the shell of the meat only.” I hung on every word while using up about a half a dozen syringes, bending the needles on the blade bones I had been warned about! “…and this apple juice-based injection I’m using provides lots of flavor without overpowering the natural flavor of the pork,” and with that the pork butts on our assembly line passed hands…

Me, chopping

The rub was next. Chris pointed to the latex gloves on the table, but “nah, I actually like to feel what I’m doing!” and with great confidence turned them down. He grinned and again at about pork butt number 30, I walked over to the sink, washed my hands, and put on the gloves…so much to learn. We talked about rubs for a moment. For the longest time I had wondered about them, why some were left on the meat for several hours to marinate, while Chris basically rubbed just before cooking. “The potency and concentration of spices within the rub dictates when you should apply it to the meat,” he answered. Of course it all made sense and with that, on the first night we rubbed and immediately loaded up just shy of 200 butts, packing them tightly into 6 massive cookers. They would be cooking “low and slow” all night, and while I didn’t want to leave for the fear of missing out on the action, it was well passed 1 AM when I walked back home. Somewhere between loading up the pork butts, getting a midnight snack, and going home, however, I decided to help the rest of the family…Don McLemore, great grandson of Big Bob himself was on coleslaw duty. I was up for the challenge and tilled several hundred pounds of shredded cabbage, carrots, onions, and peppers with quarts after quarts of mustard dressing and sugar into what would be served as coleslaw the next day.

photo by Nick Solares for Seriouseats.com

On the morning of Saturday June 13, folks started lining up for a chance to taste Big Bob Gibson’s pulled pork sandwich, but also to watch Chris Lilly in action hacking away at the meat. We ran out of pulled pork at around 4 PM, took a half an hour break, and started all over again unpacking, injecting, rubbing, and loading up the cookers with pork butts…and making more of that deliciously sweet, sour, and spicy mustard coleslaw for the next and last day of this amazing event.

Many times I’ve heard this 10-time World Champion pitmaster and most recently cookbook author Chris Lilly say, “barbecue is more than the meat off the grill. It is what you do while cooking outdoors and who you spend your time with. Barbecue is a celebration which if done right, culminates into a grand outdoor feast.”

signed copies here...reads like a memoir with award-winning recipes...fantastic!

…most humbling yet rewarding of culinary experiences I’ve ever had…

I made many friends that weekend during this most humbling yet rewarding of culinary experiences I’ve ever had…and the taste and texture of that tender, juicy pulled pork drizzled with the “winning competition sauce,” and served in a spongy soft bun is deeply ingrained in my mind. I look forward to my next encounter with my favorite “BBG” sandwich, but most of all I look forward to spending time with my friends (and the family!) next year when I’m back behind the pit.

AMEN!