Tony's Ribs of InsAniTy

Difficulty Level: Stupid Hard

Time Required: 

5 hours (min)

6 hours if you actually read the whole recipe

24 hours (max)

Background

Summer's on it's way, and for those of you who have enjoyed my ribs in the past, I've decided to actually write down the whole recipe.  It's originally intended for pork, but you can use this with any kind of rib.  It also works good with chicken, beef, anything where braising works, including (gasp) tofu.  I think I'm going to have to try it on goat leg at some point.

While this isn't true barbecue, as I don't really have the patience for it, it sure does taste as good as any rib you'll find in a restaurant.  The techniques are borrowed heavily from Alton Brown, of "Good Eats" fame, with some adjustments of my own.  It has four parts that make it so good you'll want to eat the plate.

1. The Rub
2. The Braise
3. The Sauce
4. The Grill

Let's get down to business.

Part 1 - The Rub

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Rubs tend to be something most cooks hold close to their hearts.  A capital S Secret.  Well here's my dirty little secret for your enjoyment.  This rub imparts a ton of flavor, has some heat without stinging, and a smooth, sweet center guaranteed to make you want to try it on your corn flakes.  This will make about 5 cups of the stuff, plenty for a summer of cooking out.  You can make this any time.  I usually make a double-batch which lasts about 6 months.

Ingredients

	4c.	Light Brown Sugar	⅓c.	Kosher Salt
	2Tbsp	Cumin	1Tbsp	Chili Powder
	1Tbsp	Garlic Powder	1Tbsp	Paprika
	1½Tsp	Cocoa Powder	1Tsp	Ginger Powder
	½Tsp	Cayenne Pepper	½Tsp	Cinnamon
	½Tsp	Ground Mustard	½Tsp	Cardamom
	½Tsp	Sage	½Tsp	Oregano
	½Tsp	Thyme	Dash	Nutmeg

Directions
Put it in a large bowl and mix it up.  Get your hands in it.  Break up all those chunks of brown sugar.  Watch the colors mix to form a beautiful deep reddish brown.  Breathe deep.  Get a jar and put it on display.  Good work.

Optional: Use a mortar and pestle to grind the salt, oregano and thyme together.

Part 2 - The Braise

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The braise is where the magic happens.  Where the flavors mix and mingle, where the meat gets tender, and where the beginnings of a barbecue sauce coalesce.  The smell is going to be so good you'll want to smack yourself with a frying pan.  Neighbors you haven't seen in a while are likely to drop by for no reason at all.

Let's get some tunes going.  No, not the Radio, Pandora or Last.fm, and get your hands off the party-shuffle-genius in iTunes.  Turn off the NPR.  No, I don't care if it's The Splendid Table.  Get something from your own personal back catalog.  Yeah, that's better.  Good choice.  Love it.

The Braise has 3 steps to it.

1. Rubbin'
2. Relaxin'
3. Braisin'
4. Restin'

Step 1 - Rubbin'

If you thought making the rub was messy, you ain't seen nuthin' yet!  I'm going to help you get through it though without destroying your kitchen.

First, cut your ribs up into sections that you can wrap in a single piece of foil.  For "western style" and beef short ribs, 3-4 rib chunks tend to do it.  For baby backs, 5-6 tends to be good.  Place this to your left.

Next put a generous amount of the rub (not all) in a wide bowl in the center.

Next, pre-cut enough pieces of foil to wrap your ribs.  Place these to your right.  Then to the right of that, some cookie sheets lined with foil.  Clap and shout "Woo Hoo!".  Glance furtively.

Your workstation should look like:

    [ RIBS ]  [ RUB ]  [ WRAPS ] [ SHEETS ]

[ YOU ]

[ INVISIBLE PIGMY MARMOSET ]

Grab a rib, and rub it generously with the rub on both sides while holding it over the bowl.  Place on a foil wrap curved side down and bring the two sides of the foil together on top and roll or fold down.  Roll one end shut.  Gently fold the other end closed.  You'll need to open it later.  If a bone pierces the foil, place a ball of foil over the protuberance and try again. Place it on the cookie sheet.

Repeat until all the ribs are coated and wrapped.

Now, chase your sweetheart, roommate, mother-in-law, or neighbor around with your rub-clubby hands.  Make Raaar and Ogggh sounds.  Now go wash up and discard any leftover rub.  What is wrong with you?  Get serious, this is cooking, not Pee-Wee's playhouse.

Step 2 - Relaxin'

Place the ribs gently in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours, up to 24 hours.  Talk to them encouragingly every 30 minutes or so.  Make cooing sounds.  Pretend that they're the cutest thing you've ever seen.  DO IT!  DO IT NOW!

While the ribs are relaxing you should be thinking about beer.  The braise uses beer.  Use any kind of beer you like.  I prefer stouts, or anything mellow.  Guinness, Founder's Breakfast, and Rouge are my current favorites.  Avoid bitter or hoppy beers.  No one likes to make "bitter beer face" when eating.  It's just not right.  Also avoid light beers, or beers with a gimmick, or beers made for people who don't like beer.  Well jeez, if you really hate beer that much use white wine.  Oh, you don't drink?  Well this is embarrasing, I'm really sorry.  Water or broth will also work.

Step 3 - Braisin'

You will need about cup of beer (or braising liquid) for every pound of ribs.

Heat the oven to 250°F.  Now try and grapple with the fact that I said heat and not preheat.  What the heck is preheating anyway?  Heating Before? Before what? Heating?  Is it some primordial heat that imparts heat to the heat or is it a state of heating that exists before the time of heat happening?

Grab the fridge out of the ribs.  I mean the fribs out of the ridge. No the rigs out of the fibs!  Oh you know what I mean.

Open one side of each rib package and distribute the braising liquid evenly to each package.  If you can see inside the dark, wet cavern of ribitudinousness the liquid should be about 1/4 inch high.  As you add, tilt the package gently to make sure it makes it all the way to he back.  If it comes out the back you tilted too far, put too much in, and didn't close things properly.  Way to go Captain Reynolds.

Place the ribs in the oven for 2½-3hours.  The smell will make you do things like hum a tune you forgot you didn't know, say things like "Mmmmmm Goooooood!" or run around telling pig jokes like: How do you fit more pigs on your farm? Build a sty-scraper!  You may also start gnawing your leg off.  It's okay, it's all perfectly natural.  You're doing great.  Me?  I've always been this way.

You know the ribs are done when you open a packet up and you can turn a bone slightly in its socket.  If it disintegrates in your hand you obviously drank way too much beer, passed out, and it's a miracle you didn't burn your house down.

Step 4 - Restin'

Pull the ribs out of the oven.  Open the first packet and pour the liquid into a saucepan.  After you've stopped screaming due to the steam burns, open the second packet a little more carefully and use potholders to pick up the packet and pour the liquid into the saucepan.  Repeat until all the packets are emptied.  Grab a bag of frozen peas for your hands.

Close up the packets and set them aside to rest.  Put it down.  Don't eat it yet.  I know it smells delicious.  Your sweet reward is at hand.  Your patience will be re- I SAID PUT IT DOWN!

Part 3 - The Sauce

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Wow.  You're still here.  Okay, you've made it this far, might as well keep going.  Ignore the wombat, he mostly keeps to himself.  At this point you should have:

• Cooked Ribs
• Funky Liquid in a sauce pan
• Burned Hands (see prior step 4)
• A Wombat (see above)
• The Invisible Pygmy Marmoset
• You feeling okAY?

Assuming you have about 3 cups of sweet ambrosia in that sauce pan you should get out:

• 1 cup of Ketchup
• 1/4 cup honey
• 2Tbsp of apple cider or other fruit vinegar

And add it to the pot.  Cook on high to reduce.  It will bubble and froth.  Use a spoon or whisk to beat the bubbles back.  When it starts to thicken (about 20 minutes), reduce heat and keep stirring.  You're making sweet sweet candy.

You could skip the Ketchup part.  I just like Ketchup.  It reminds me of my childhood when my parents never took me to the circus where I would eat red hots and Ketchup covered corn dogs while the clowns juggled the dancing elephants.

Wipe drool.

Part 4 - The Grill

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Here's the part where you look like a real pro.  But at this point we both know the truth.  The grill is just window dressing.  It's not really doing all that much except making the people you're serving admire you for your considerable talents.  Just realize that you would never have reached this penultimate culinary precipice sans moi.

I really don't care if it's charcoal, wood, gas, or electric. The crucial thing here is the proper application of heat to these tender morsels you've spent the better part of a day preparing.  Just take a deep breath, clear your mind and keep repeating this mantra:

Don't screw this up.

Keep in mind that humans typically only remember the last three words anyone says to them.

The key to this is low heat.  Remember, these babies are already cooked.  We're just putting a little lipstick on 'em.  Don't worry there'll be plenty of fire.  Unless you're using that electric outdoor grill.  What were you thinking when you bought that thing anyway? Electric outdoor grill.  Three words that should never appear in the same sentence together.  And I did it.  Twice.  Now picture me doing the cabbage patch.  Oh yeah.

Place the ribs on the grill and liberally paint with the sauce.  If there's a fire under them (I told you), move them. If you're a Republican, embrace your inner Mao.  You know you want to.  You're both Red fer cryin' out loud.

Turn them over after a minute or so.  Paint like Pollock with coverage like Rothko.

Get them just warm enough so the sauce is bubbly and there are light grill marks.  Just like you never had them from everyone's favorite barbecue joint.  If they don't look the girl on the right you're doing it wrong.  Put them on a platter and pretend for just one shining moment that you're the best rib maker on the planet.

Then realize that you got this recipe from me.

But...

Don't tell anyone.  Or I'll sic the Marmoset on you.