Showing posts with label BBQ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BBQ. Show all posts

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

Brew By Numbers / Howard's Meat Co.

Craft beer and BBQ, along with quality burgers and kimchi, are perhaps two of the four horsemen of the overdone foodpocalypse currently engulfing London.  Don’t get me wrong, there’s a reason these things are so successful – they’re bloody lovely and everyone wants a mouthful.  But they are everywhere and in some cases that begins to grate, at times.  So when an email chain alerts me to the fact that there is an afternoon craft beer and BBQ-ing going down in Southwark, the initial reaction, if we’re honest, is “Again?”.

Of course, that doesn’t stop me reaching for my wallet, clicking the link and booking my tickets.  Why?  Two reasons:  First, the pedigree here is pretty impressive – this is a partnership of Brew By Numbers (or “BBNo” as the branding has it), one of London’s more successful outlets of small batch, craft brewed beer, and Howard’s Meat Co., a British BBQ vendor with Austin, TX training smoking meat in London.  Second, as I said above, beer and BBQ are pretty bloody lovely and so there’s no way I’m gonna turn this sort of opportunity down.

There’s something almost painfully hipster about the setting.  BBNo’s brewhouse is squeezed into a Bermondsey railway arch, mere spitting distance from Maltby Street Market.  It’s the kind of place you expect to find a lot of beards, thick-rimmed glasses and ironic cartoon t-shirts, and it didn’t disappoint.  They had four beers on tap, each were distinctly delicious, from seasonal brews to their standard IPA. 




We kicked off with a witbeer, a classic white beer made with orange peel, coriander and chamomile flowers. 


On a hot sunny day, as Sunday was, it was perfect refreshment.  In fact, this was a truly brilliant beer.  Much like the Einstok I was raving about when we ate in an Underground train, this is a fantastic way of brewing, and makes a beer that even a non-beer drinker (such as GrubsterGirl) would enjoy. 

Pretty soon, we were being treated to some canapé things.  I say ‘canapé things’ because I don’t really know how else to put it.  I mean, sure, it’s sort of like a canapé in that it’s (a) small, virtually bitesized; (b) served before the meal; and (c) on a cocktail stick.  But surely this is no fancy canapé?  Canapés to me seem to belong at awkward networking events and dreary office parties. 



But who cares, eh?  Because these were brilliant.  I mean, seriously brilliant.  One of the best sausages I’ve ever had, it was rich, smokey and oh-so-juicy – all of the things I have come to expect not to have in the often over-grilled British Barbequed Banger.  Technically this was a weisswurst, a white sausage made from veal and back bacon – I assume it was the long, long hours of smoking that had tuned its final colour.  The pickles it was served with – pink onions and pickled green beans – were fantastic too.

By this stage we’re on to beer number two – the saison.


‘Saison’ is the French word for season, or seasonal (in this instance).  A Belgian style of beer, this one is made with lime zest and particularly fruity hops, and is a real zinger.  Should be good with rich greasy food.  Like BBQ.  Oh what a coincidence.

By now we’re seated in side, at long trestle tables.  There’s something of a seating plan but it’s pretty much easy come easy go, which is nice and relaxed.  Also, they’ve not made the mistake of overcrowding the tables, so it’s comfortable which is a blessed relief and a big change from the norm.  It kinda feels like you can make as many friends from your neighbours as you like or ignore them altogether, whatever is your fancy.  In fact, generally, the vibe is wonderfully relaxed.  There’s no hassle to get in and get out for the next cover, this is take-your-time style eating, laid-back gluttony.  Perfect. 

Soon the food starts trotting out.  Let’s get started with the sides because, you know, I like to leave the best ‘til last. 

So, we have fresh seasonal fruit slaw and jalapeño potato salad. 



OK, so with the slaw I am not sure where the fruit is.  And I don’t like potato salad (actually, there’s a confession about potatoes somewhere on this blog…).  But, if I’m honest, neither really matter because these two sides are rocking.  Seriously, nailed it.  The slaw is crunchy and tasty, without going the way of so many others and being too cloying.  Same goes for the potato salad, which can be a slick of mayo-based sludge populated by the occasional over-boiled spud.  Not so here: It’s delicious, with a smack of dill and punch of jalapeño, this is wonderfully more-ish and leaves a professed potato-dodger coming back for more and more and more. 

I also ordered up a schooner of BBNo’s Session IPA. 


This was similarly delicious.  As any ‘session’ beer ought to be, it was thoroughly drinkable and very tasty.  Another good drop with food. Actually, I should mention at this stage that these aren’t pints, they’re 2/3rd pint glasses, which makes them more manageable and means you can drink a wider variety of beers.  Which has to be a good thing, right?

Now let’s get serious and talk about the meat.  Because, let’s be honest, that’s why you’re still reading this.



Meat comes on a platter, three different types: pork belly (marinated in the Session IPA), lamb shoulder, and beef brisket.  On the side is a little pot of their own BBQ sauce, made today with a BBNo porter. 

Let’s start with the pork. 


This was beautiful – rich, buttery fat had slowly rendered into the meat leaving smoky, soft belly pork that melted in the mouth.  Devine, but sadly too little of it.

The smokiness of all of the meats was something else, something I have not properly had in the UK before, proper Texan.  The meats are smoked for up to 16 hours (!) over a mix of lime, silver birch and English red oak.  The quality of the cooking process really shows – there are no cheats here, no corners cut.   

Then there was the lamb. 


Now, as a general rule, I tend to avoid lamb when eating out and very rarely cook it.  I have nothing against lamb, honestly, it’s just that it can be so very hit-and-miss.  When it’s done well, it’s divine.  When it’s not, I find it way too fatty to be enjoyed.  Fortunately, this was a case of the former.  In fact, this was a case of hole-in-one, knock-your-socks off lamb.  The outer layers were nicely charged and smoky, and the whole meat was slow cooked so that it came away like pulled lamb.  But the flavouring was intense – a dolloping of chopped herbs and spices that left the meat still very much America BBQ-esque but somehow introduced all the European flavours that offset lamb so well.

And brisket.  Brisket is always, always going to be the star of any Texan BBQ show.  BBQ brisket is like a religion over there, as if it were the one essential component that you can’t really skip out.  It is kind of revered, and that’s a pretty heavy burden to have to carry. 


Here it’s executed to perfection.  Just look at it.  It.  Charred and crusted on the outside, there’s a distinct pink edge all the way around showing where the smoke has permeated the meat.  It’s soft as hell – you could spread this stuff on a saltine cracker without difficulty, which from a tough as originally tough as brisket is invariably impressive.  And it was oh so tasty, beautiful smoky meat, oh so good.  The BBQ sauce was a real winner with this too.  As was the porter we sampled as well – properly dark, rich and bitter, it worked wonders with the rich meat. 

Then there was seconds.  SECONDS.  Good stuff. 



(Actually, I think there was way more than seconds – the couple next to us kept asking for more – although we were stuffed by this stage.)

Pudding came too, a millionaire’s brownie – basically a chocolate brownie with a shortbread base and a caramel top – accompanied by bourbon cream and strawberries.


If I’m honest, this wasn’t the highlight.  It was with some relief that it was revealed Howard’s Meat Co. was not responsible for this – it was bought in.  I reckoned it was there because you couldn’t offer lunch to an Englishman without a pudding, but frankly I’d have preferred it if they’d thrown in another beer (the first was free), or shaved a couple of quid off the asking price.  But maybe that’s just me. 

BBNo is running a series of these events – known as Dine Street.  I shall be watch their announcements closely to see what else is on the menu in future.  Provided the quality of food is remains that consistently brilliant, it’s a great thing to do on a Sunday afternoon, a nice break to the same old trip to the pub for roast beef and yorkies.  Similarly, next time I find myself at one of these oh-so-trendy food festivals I shall be keeping my eye out for Howard’s Meat Co. – because there I know I am going to get 100% quality, authentic Texan fare.  Top marks to both.

Friday, 19 December 2014

The Lockhart

I've wanted to go to The Lockhart for absolutely ages.  I just don’t know why I didn't go before now.  I was not disappointed.

The Lockhart's entry on Google suggests that it serves 'south western' cuisine.  I'm not so sure.  This is proper Deep South stuff, the home cooked comfort food of the lands below the Mason Dixon line – all American food, without being just another BBQ joint.  This is the stuff you read about in books but never try, the gastronomy of the South you usually only get to sample if you head there yourself.

We started with some bar snacks – in particular, a bowl of crispy pig skin with pickled watermelon rind.


It was the rind that I was most excited by, if I'm brutally honest.  I heard about it somewhere else and was astonished to read it – surely, surely, this can’t really be a thing, right?  Well, it turns out it is – and bloody brilliant it is too.

I insisted on washing down the snacks with a Mezcal sour, which was decent.


 Later on we got some mint juleps that were equally good, if perhaps bordering in the sweet.  One of the friends I was dining with is a professional wine merchant and was after a bottle of the red stuff.  A treat from Washington arrived that I rather liked, if my other two companions (more attuned to old world drops, perhaps) we less eager.

For starters I had the gumbo.



Now gumbo really is one of those dishes you hear about without ever really knowing what it is.  Basically, it's a sort of soup / stew full of seafood and thickened with a burned roux and okra.  Splash a bit of Tabasco in there and there you have a fine comfort dish for an autumn's night.

Friend 1, Matthew started with one of the daily specials, a smoked pheasant salad.




Friend 2, Greg, had the devilled crab.  Nice enough, but I gather a bit over devilled, which sadly had the effect of losing a lot of the delicate crab flavour.

Onto the mains.  Matthew opted for that most classic Southern dish, shrimp and grits.


"Brave", says I when it was ordered.  "That's twice you've told me eating grits is brave," says Matthew. "Is there something I should know?"  Why is eating grits brave?  Simple: most of the time they're fucking disgusting.  Now, I am sure I'm going to get into a lot of trouble for saying that – and rightly so, I suspect – but a lot of the time to a, shall we say unsophisticated, English palate, they are less than pleasant.  Not on this occaision, however.  On this occasion they were fantastic.  My only criticism is that there did seem to be rather a lot of them.

Greg went for the southern fried chicken, which he claims is his favourite dish (the savage).  This came with a coleslaw that was apparently fantastic – and I can imagine it would be, I can hardly think of anything better to go with fried chicken.  It also came with a bowl of spaghetti squash that I was told was totally unnecessary, and unexciting.



I, however, in my humble opinion won at food ordering.  Because I had the slow cooked, smokey Jacob's ladder beef ribs.


OK, so I said this wasn't a BBQ joint and here I have a picture of an enormous BBQ smoked joint.

Well, I actually said that it wasn't just another BBQ joint – it's still got some BBQ joint, OK?  And why wouldn’t it?  BBQ, done the slow, smoky way, is an essential component of the US South eating experience.  And, what's more, this was done brilliantly.  Like, actually, brilliantly.  These ribs were cured with a coffee and BBQ rub, before being smoked for hours and hours and accompanied with a BBQ reduction.  The meat was so soft, so juicy, so flavoursome... I run out of words.  First rate.


It came with a rather sad looking cucumber and tomato salad that was unfortunately a little lazily done but essential given the fatty richness of the meat.


We also kept our mains company with a couple of sides, including a bowl of collard greens – spring greens cooked with vinegar and bacon.


But the highlight was the corn bread, which comes to your table straight out of the oven, in its piping hot little cast iron dish, bubbling away like crazy.  I have never had proper cornbread like this before.  This was just jaw-droppingly good.


Sadly, by the time we'd got through that lot we were absolutely stuffed so there was no room for pud.  Oh well, next time.

 - GrubsterBoy -

Tuesday, 14 October 2014

Pulled Pork

There were so many wonderful things to come out of the epic road trip that GrubsterGirl (now Mrs Grubster) and I undertook four years ago.  One of them was the discovery of pulled pork.

Now, you're probably laughing at that – how could he never have had pulled pork until 2010? - but I swear that one in London had really heard of pulled pork back then.  It certainly wasn't the massive, omnipresent, pervasive food that it is today.  Sure, a few venues had popped up serving the stuff – Bodean's comes to mind – but it was much less of a thing then that it is now.  Indeed, other than a few specialist places, like Pitt Cue Co., the Deep South BBQ experience hadn’t really hit Britain's mainstream food scene then. 

It was in a roadside diner that we first tasted it.  We were on the road between Death Valley and Las Vegas and we were getting hungry.  So we pulled in at the first place we saw that wasn't a MacDonalds / Burger King / Subway.  There were a lot of Harley Davidsons parked up outside, and I began to feel good about this place – clearly, this was classic Americana.  We wandered into the bar which was thick with cigarette smoke and busy with Hell's Angels.  We decided to eat outside instead.  Little did we realise then that we had stumbled into the infamous Mountain Springs Saloon – a regular biker haunt.

So we ordered up the special of the day: pulled pork buns, slathered in BBQ sauce, and a cream soda each. 

It. Was. Incredible. 

Seriously, best pulled pork I've ever had. 

The below recipe bears no relation to that – indeed, it's barely even proper pulled pork as it's simmered in the oven not smoked on the grill.  But I don’t have a 6 foot long smoker, or even a garden to put one in, so this is really the best I can manage.  It also tastes pretty decent too.

I used a dry rub to season the meat first.  Rubs are another Deep South thing – basically, you take dry herbs and spices and rub it into the meat, leaving it overnight as a dry marinade.  It's well worth the effort.  This recipe makes about twice the amount you need, but that's ok because it can be stored in an airtight container for ages.  If you're barbequing cheap meat over the summer a really good idea would be to apply the rub the night before (although a mere hour marinade will make all the difference) and let it wallow.  That way your meat will taste all the better when it comes off the grill.

Dr Pepper is a Texan drink.  Most people don’t know that, but if you ever go to Texas they won't let you forget it.  In a town in Texas called Shiner I remember being asked by a young Texan if we had Dr Pepper in the UK.  She was surprised that we did.  It's a Texan drink, ya see.  I've used it here, instead of the more usual Coca Cola, to try to capture a little bit more of that taste of the South.  Surprisingly, it worked pretty well.  I also threw some bourbon in, an additional tip of the Stetson hat to the South.  I used Jack Daniels* because I had it kicking about in large quantities, but you could really go with anything.

Ingredients:


For the dry rub -

100g soft dark brown sugar
50g smoked paprika
30g ground chipotle (stick 30g work to chipotle peppers in a spice / coffee grinder, or just use regular chilli / cayenne powder)
20g granulated onion
20g granulated garlic
20g sea salt
20g black pepper
20g ground cumin
20g mustard powder

For the pork shoulder
Half a shoulder of pork, bone in
2 large white onions
4-6 garlic cloves
1l Dr Pepper
50ml Bourbon
1 jar chipotle paste (c. 90g)
½ a lemon (or the juice thereof)
1 bottle BBQ sauce
Soft white rolls (to serve)

This takes a little bit of time.  OK, it takes a lot of time – a couple of days if you're doing it properly - but it's totally worth it.  Just hang on in there.

1. Start by making the rub.  Basically, put all the ingredients in a large mixing bowl and stir until completely combined.  There's no particular magic to it.


2. Prepare the meat.  Trim off any rind as much of the surface fat as you can.  Trust me on this – your joint ought to be a particularly fatty piece of meat, you don’t need any more than is already in there.  You are going to end up with a fatty dish regardless, I'm just trying to slim down the quantity of it (you'll thank me later – namely at step 5).



When trimmed, take handfuls of the rub and liberally (and literally) rub it into the meat.  Make sure to get it into all the nooks and crannies, underneath and folds in the meat, in between the joins of the muscle and bone, and really get it lodged in the grain.  Then wrap it all up in cling film and stick it in the fridge overnight.




3. The next day get the meat out and let it come up to room temperature.  Pre-heat your oven to 150ºC whilst you're waiting.  You'll see that much of the rub as sort of 'soaked in'.



4. Top and tail and peel the onions, then cut them into eight parts before throwing them into the bottom of a large, cast iron casserole dish (or the nearest equivalent you can muster).  Bash the cloves and stick them in the dish – no need to bother with any fiddly peeling, you'll not be eating these, just tasting them.


Unwrap the joint and place this on top of the onions. 


Empty the jar of chipotle paste into pan and pour in the bourbon.  Now add the Dr Pepper, pouring so it comes about three-quarters of the way up the pan.  Put the lid on and stick it in the oven.  It needs at least 6 hours, but I actually did mine overnight.  It needs to be turned a couple of times during the process, however, so overnight won’t necessarily work for you.  It's done when you can flake the meat away from the joint with a fork.



(Turn one...)




(Turn two... See how the sauce has reduced a little and gone a bit darker.)



5. When done, remove the joint from the liquid, but strain and keep the liquid.  Allow the pork to cool down and dry out a little, then strip the meat from the bones, being careful to discard any cartilage, small bones or fragments, and excess fat.  You'll probably now see why I told you to remove as much fat as possible.  This is a greasy joint, and the cooled, congealed fat is grim. 





Shred, or 'pull', the pork to the kind of size you want to be eating it.


6. Cool the cooking liquid, ideally overnight, or at least a couple of hours, in the fridge.  You'll see a lot of the fat rises up to the top and solidifies.  Skim this off.  Then reintroduce it to the pan, add the lemon juice, and reduce by one third / half. 

7. To serve, douse the pulled pork in the reduced cooking liquid then stick it in a soft bun with loads of BBQ sauce and some pickles in you have to hand.  Wolf down.



 - GrubsterBoy -


* Yes, I know, it's not bourbon it's Tennessee Whiskey, yada yada yada... Whatevs.