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The
zombie motif seems to be everywhere these days, and what
better way to while away the first fo-real
Surface-Of-The-Sun day of the season than to resurrect the
moldy, undead carcass of our own walker series, Dashboard
Dining!
Somehow five years went by since the last
installment -- three I can credit to a heavy travel
schedule, one I don't have much excuse for, and this year
here we are again curbside.
To
recap for those who weren't along for the backstory, car
cuisine is something I turned to in order to cope with the
rigors of summer here in the Ninth Ring of Hell.
The extreme climate gives rise to new rules like
"Okay, kids, when it's going to be above 115, don't
make any social plans because Mommy is NOT driving
anywhere." And
when cabin fever sets in, cooking on the dashboard is fun,
it's twisted, and hey, it's dinner.
The
Fine Piece of German Engineering featured in previous
episodes is long gone, but the original Land Schooner is
still on hand. Since
this is the vehicle that hauled all our BBQ gear to
contest after contest, it seemed fitting to give it a turn
making something it knows only too well: BBQ ribs.
Here
the Land Schooner is preheating at the curb.
Today dawned with few clouds, so it should be
cranked up to cooking temps by midmorning.
I'm pretty sure any contact with leather seats
would produce a sizzling noise. |
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And
here are the centerpieces of today's cook:
two ridiculously tiny racks of ribs that had been
living in the freezer for an undetermined but undeniably
very long time.
They're thin enough that they should lend
themselves well to the gentle heat of the dash. |
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I
trimmed them down to just the sections I wanted.
Yes, you HAVE to pull the membrane off the back.
I don't care what rationale you've heard for
leaving it on; it'll cook up rubbery and doesn't make for
a nice bite. Just pull up an edge, get a grip on it with a
paper towel, and go for it.
See, that wasn't that bad. |
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These
ribs will be cooking in a sheltered environment, they
don't need a lot to keep them company: just a little honey
to get them sticky, and a rub with plenty of flavor. |
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Since
sous-vide became a "thing", I got the idea to
bag these up for cooking with our trusty old vacuum
sealer. VQ
determined that this method should be called sous-van. |
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With
the ribs treated and bagged, it was time to turn to the
token veg. BBQ
needs roasted corn, right?
So I went for the time-honored idea of peeling back
the husks and removing the silk, with the idea of putting
flavored butter on them, replacing the husks, and rolling
them in foil. Halfway
through this process, I belatedly recalled from a previous
project that leaving those husks on is a royal pain in the
butt. If
you're not taking pictures, just yank that crap off. |
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By
this point the morning had advanced, and it was time to
sling the meal into the Land Schooner.
Remember, according to the USDA
Food Safety and Inspection Service, most slow
cookers utilize temperatures between 170° and 280° F.
I snapped a quick shot as the temp was rising, but
as I waited a minute more to see what the final number
would be the display went all "888" from the
heat. I figured that qualified as damn hot, and that
it would be good enough. |
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There
it is, perking away. And
about half a minute of admiring it was all I was willing
to give before retreating indoors. |
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After a few hours, it was time to park something else on
the dash. Cookies
are never a bad thing, right?
I have no idea if these are going to work, but then
again cookie dough is fine stuff even when raw, so we're
halfway there.
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The afternoon wore on, and
I had ample time to reflect. "It's a dry heat"
is a phrase commonly bandied about, but my rejoinder is
usually something along the lines of "so is a
freaking oven, put your hand in there and tell me again
that it's not too bad".
The mouth-breather who coined that "dry
heat" phrase must have been heavily involved either
in the Chamber of Commerce or realty, because close in to
civilization you encounter lots of misleading, impossibly
cheerful place names like "Summer Breeze" and
"Happy Valley" and "Daisy Hill" --
wishful thinking at best, criminally fraudulent at worst.
Drive a few miles out beyond the "For
Sale" signs, though, and it all changes to
"Bloody Basin" and "Deadman's Wash",
and you realize that $#!+ just got REAL.
Not that I'm bitter or anything.
But
I digress. Back
in our similarly-named corner of paradise, some ninety
minutes or so had gone by and I ran out to check on the
cookies. They
had spread as they should into an approximately
cookie-like shape, but due to the low temps they're not
going to brown any. |
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I
was much dismayed to see that in that interval, a
spreading overcast had come in.
What the hell?
On the ONE day I'm actually wanting it to be
searing outside? This
was alarming -- was it going to stay hot enough in the van
to complete the meal?
Only time would tell, but I wasn't liking the look
of things. On
the upside, the rib packets had puffed up, so clearly
there was something going on in there. |
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I gave it another hour as the sky grew more and more
muddy, and after one check realized that it had cooled off
enough that it no longer hurt to touch the door
handle. That was the sign to give it up and pull the
food, so I grabbed a couple of potholders and the key fob.
I was surprised to see that the ribs had even achieved a
little bit of pullback, with their toes peeking out! |
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And they certainly passed the bend test -- |
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Onto a plate they went, and got kissed with a bit of RnQ's
world champion BBQ sauce
(of course I couldn't pass up an opportunity to say that
one more time), and the corn and a couple of fresh things
went alongside. |
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Pretty is as pretty does, but I wondered how the ribs'
texture would be after a spin on the dashboard.
Astonishingly, they weren't bad! They were tender
enough to pull apart, and showed white bone. The
meat itself was soft but not mushy, it still had proper
texture to it. Of course there was no smoke, but
they were every bit as good as any steam-table ribs from
[insert name of popular restaurant chain here]. |
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All in all, I was a bit surprised to find this edition of
Dashboard Dining a success. We cook ribs week in and
week out, and are pretty picky about them, and I was
astonished to find that this form of vehicular viands
could achieve acceptability. Let's get in there for
a glamour shot, shall we? |
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And that's all she wrote. |
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