Lesson no 6
My biggest barbecue inspiration has been the meat markets of central Texas. These barbecue joints began as butcher shops opened by German immigrants, who smoked brisket and sausages in outdoor pits and sold them by the pound. They weren’t set up as restaurants with dedicated kitchens, so customers who wanted to eat on the premises would supplement their meals with whatever was being sold on the market’s shelves—usually pickles, cheese, bread, and crackers. Even outside of Texas, at the classic barbecue spots of Kansas City, Memphis, and the Carolinas, you don’t find a lot of sides on the menu. I love the simplicity of this style of dining, where meat is king. Although I don’t have anything against side dishes, when I’m eating barbecue or grilled meat, I like to focus on the protein, and there’s only so much you can eat in one sitting.
But I know that people do like to round out their meals. When selecting appetizers or sides, pair barbecue with dishes that are high in acidity, which helps balance the richness of the meat. It’s also smart to contrast hot barbecue with cold or room-temperature sides (such as my grandmother’s broccoli salad, or my mom’s coleslaw), especially during hot summer months.
There’s an obvious convenience that comes from cooking your sides on the grill. As I mentioned earlier, when I was growing up, my family’s kitchen was up two flights of stairs from the backyard, so we’d cook our entire meal on the grill. I’ve also used my smoker as an oven to bake beans, potatoes, or whatever will benefit from some time in the smoke chamber. When you’ve already got the heat (or smoke), why not use it?
My grandmother’s broccoli salad was a staple of my childhood. It’s meant to be eaten at room temperature or cold, and its flavors actually improve after a day or two in the refrigerator, which gives the acidic vinaigrette enough time to soak into the crisp broccoli.
Makes 4 servings
1 large bunch broccoli (about 1 pound), cut into 1-inch florets, woody stems discarded
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 large garlic clove, finely chopped
Pinch of red pepper flakes
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 Place a steamer basket in a large saucepan, add 1 inch of water, and bring the water to a boil. Add the broccoli, cover, and steam until crisp-tender, about 5 minutes. Transfer the broccoli to a bowl and let cool.
2 While the broccoli cools, make the vinaigrette: In a small bowl, whisk together the lemon juice, garlic, and red pepper flakes. Slowly whisk in the olive oil. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
3 Toss the broccoli with the vinaigrette and serve immediately, or cover and refrigerate until ready to serve. The salad can be refrigerated for up to 2 days.
This potato salad was a staple at my grandparents’ house. In the summertime, my grandfather Dante would make a batch of it every week. It’s certainly in the style of German potato salad, but he added olive oil as a nod to his Italian roots. My version of the recipe, with the addition of grainy mustard, nudges it back toward Germany.
Makes 8 to 10 servings
½ cup plus 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 large Spanish onion, diced
4 pounds Yukon Gold or other waxy potatoes
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons whole-grain mustard
¼ cup cider vinegar
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 tablespoons chopped chives
1 In a large skillet, heat 1 tablespoon of the olive oil over medium-low heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring frequently, until translucent and crisp-tender (you don’t want the onion to be completely soft), about 8 minutes; if the onion begins to brown, lower the heat. Transfer to a bowl and let cool.
2 In a large saucepan, cover the potatoes with water by 1 inch and add a large pinch of salt. Bring the water to a boil, reduce the heat to a simmer, and cook until the potatoes are tender, about 25 minutes. Drain the potatoes and transfer to a cutting board.
3 Meanwhile, in a bowl, whisk together the mustard, vinegar, and cayenne. Slowly whisk in the remaining ½ cup olive oil. Season the vinaigrette to taste with salt and pepper.
4 When the potatoes are cool enough to handle, cut into ½-inch dice.
5 In a bowl, toss the warm potatoes and reserved onions with the vinaigrette. Add the chives, season with salt and pepper, and toss again. The potato salad can be served immediately or refrigerated for up to 1 day.
Burnt ends are the trimmings left over from smoked brisket. Traditionally they were considered scraps not worthy of selling to customers, so they were given away or used in beans or stews. But barbecue lovers came to recognize burnt ends for what they are—densely flavored, intensely smoky nuggets of bark—and they became a delicacy. Today, at many barbecue joints, especially in Kansas City, you can order a plate of burnt ends, which are often made from the brisket’s fattier second cut (or point) specifically for this purpose.
At Fette Sau, we don’t just add burnt ends to our beans: any leftover scraps from the carving station—pulled pork, barbecue belly, ribs, whatever—go into the beans. I recommend doing the same. The more kinds of meat you add to the pot, the richer and more complex your beans will be. If you have especially fatty chunks of meat, stir them in earlier in the cooking process to allow the fat to melt and enrich the beans.
Makes 8 servings
1 pound great northern beans, picked over
4 cups water
1 small Spanish onion, thinly sliced
2 large garlic cloves, finely chopped
3 cups Heinz ketchup
½ cup brown ale or other malty beer
¼ cup Worcestershire sauce
½ cup packed dark brown sugar
2 tablespoons Colman’s mustard powder (see Note)
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 bay leaf
1 pound brisket burnt ends or assorted barbecue, diced (about 3 cups)
1 Put the beans in a medium bowl and cover with water by 2 inches. Soak for at least 8 hours at room temperature.
2 Preheat the oven to 250°F.
3 Drain the beans and put in a Dutch oven or other large pot. Add all remaining ingredients, except for any leaner pieces of meat, and bring to a boil. Cover the pot, transfer to the oven, and bake for 2 hours.
4 Uncover the pot and stir in any remaining meat. Return to the oven and bake for 2 hours longer. Remove the bay leaf and serve the beans. Or let cool and refrigerate for up to 2 days.
I’ve always been fascinated by chuck wagons and cowboy cooking: I can’t imagine a better scenario for dinner than an expansive prairie, a setting sun, and a live fire with steaks and kettles of beans cooking over it. At one point, I even started looking for a vintage wagon, which I wanted to set up in a vacant lot where we’d cook open-fire dinners with a live bluegrass band. (Various New York City departments didn’t share my enthusiasm.)
I first made this recipe during my early cowboy phase, around the time I started getting into old country and bluegrass music. Not only does cooking beans inside an onion make for a cool presentation, but the onions add flavor to the beans and vice versa, especially when slowly simmered over a smoky fire. Sweet Vidalia onions make the best onion bowls; they’re wide and squat, so they won’t roll around on the grill, and they’re mild and sweet enough to eat with a knife and fork when you’ve finished your beans.
Makes 4 servings
4 large Vidalia onions, peeled
Olive oil
Kosher salt
2 cups Baked Beans with Burnt Ends
¼ cup packed dark brown sugar
1 Prepare a two-stage fire with medium and low sides in a grill (see page 149).
2 Trim away a little of the root end of each onion so they have a stable base to stand on. Using a paring knife, cut a circle in the top of each one with the knife angled inward to remove a cone-shaped piece of onion. Use a teaspoon to scoop out and discard most of the insides of the onion, leaving about a ½-inch shell. Rub the insides and outsides of the onions with olive oil and season the insides with salt.
3 Fill the onions with the baked beans. Sprinkle the brown sugar over the top.
4 Place the onions over the low side of the grill, cover the grill, and cook until the onions are tender throughout, about 20 minutes. Serve.
This simple side dish can be served alongside any meat or other main course you’re throwing on the grill. A hot grill crisps up the exterior of the fingerlings so they are like fat steak fries, making them the perfect starch accompaniment.
Makes 4 servings
1 pound fingerling potatoes, scrubbed
Kosher salt
Extra-virgin olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup melted Garlic Butter
¼ cup chopped parsley
1 Put the potatoes in a large saucepan and add enough water to cover by 2 inches. Add 1 tablespoon salt and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium and simmer until the potatoes are just tender, about 10 minutes. Drain and let cool slightly, then cut lengthwise in half.
2 Prepare a hot single-level fire in a grill (see page 149).
3 In a large bowl, toss the potatoes with olive oil until well coated. Season with salt and pepper and toss again. Grill the potatoes, cut side down, until charred on the first side, 2 to 3 minutes. Turn the potatoes over and grill until the skin is crispy, about 2 minutes longer.
4 Transfer the potatoes to a bowl and toss with the garlic butter. Season to taste with salt and pepper, sprinkle with the parsley, and toss again. Transfer to a serving bowl and serve.
I’ve always thought of collard greens as more of a soul food staple than a barbecue side dish, but I love them with smoked meat. The liquid left from cooking the greens—and you really need to cook them into submission to get them tender enough to eat—is what’s known as pot liquor (or “potlikker”), a vinegary, porky broth that’s magical in and of itself. Save any leftover potlikker to use in soups or gravies—some Southerners even drink it straight as a tonic.
Makes 4 to 6 servings
2 large bunches collard greens (about 3 pounds)
4 slices thick-cut bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 smoked ham hock, rinsed
8 cups water
One 12-ounce bottle pilsner beer
¼ cup cider vinegar, or more to taste
2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
1 bay leaf
Small pinch of red pepper flakes
¼ teaspoon yellow mustard seeds
1 tablespoon kosher salt, or more to taste
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 Cut or tear the woody stems and ribs from the collard greens, and discard any leaves that are bruised or yellow. Wash and drain the leaves (you don’t have to dry them well). Stack a few leaves at a time and roll them up like a cigar, then cut crosswise into ½-inch-wide strips.
2 In a stockpot, cook the bacon over medium-low heat until some of the fat has rendered, about 8 minutes. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, for 2 minutes.
3 Add the ham hock, water, beer, cider vinegar, brown sugar, bay leaf, red pepper flakes, mustard seeds, salt, and pepper to the pot, then add the collard greens, packing them down until they’re submerged in the liquid. Bring the liquid to a boil, then lower the heat to a simmer, cover the pot, leaving a crack for steam to escape, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the collards are very tender, at least 2 hours.
4 Remove and discard the bay leaf (if you can find it). Remove the ham hock from the greens and, when it is cool enough to handle, remove the skin and pull the meat from the bone. Coarsely chop the meat and return it to the pot.
5 Season the greens to taste with more salt and/or vinegar, if necessary. Serve, or let cool and refrigerate for up to 1 day.
My mom, Susan, makes this fresh, tangy slaw for all of our family barbecues. Her recipe is extremely simple—just mayonnaise, a touch of vinegar, and lots of dill—but you can treat it as a foundation and add other cabbages or vegetables as you see fit.
Makes 8 servings
1 cup mayonnaise
1 tablespoon distilled white vinegar
½ cup chopped dill fronds
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 pounds white or Napa cabbage (about ½ large head), cored and cut into ¼-inch-wide ribbons
1 In a small bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise and vinegar. Stir in the dill and season the dressing to taste with salt and pepper.
2 In a salad bowl, toss the cabbage with the dressing. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving. The slaw can be refrigerated for up to 1 day.
A speckling of blistered flesh on vegetables adds both caramelized and smoky flavors, which is so much more interesting than anything a steaming basket can achieve. Chinese long beans, aka yard-long beans, look and taste like gangly, protracted green beans. They’re especially grill-friendly, as their length and curly shape will prevent them from slipping through the grates. They make an easy, extra-quick side dish that you can cook in the time it takes for meat to rest after it comes off the grill.
Makes 4 servings
1 pound Chinese long beans, trimmed
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons melted Garlic Butter
¼ cup chopped parsley
1 Prepare a medium-hot single-level fire in a grill (see page 149).
2 Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Prepare an ice bath. Blanch the beans for 1 minute, then transfer to the ice bath. When they are cool, drain the beans.
3 Put the beans on a rimmed baking sheet, drizzle with the olive oil, and toss until coated, then season with salt and pepper.
4 Grill the beans, moving and turning them frequently with tongs, until crisp-tender and charred in spots, about 3 minutes.
5 Transfer the beans to a serving bowl and drizzle with the warm garlic butter. Sprinkle with the parsley and season to taste with salt and pepper. Toss and serve.
Grilled Halloumi with Long Beans and Pea shoots
There are only a few cheeses that can stand up to the heat of a grill without melting through the grates. Of these, salty halloumi is the best. When grilled, this feta-like fresh Cypriot cheese takes on a flavor that reminds us why we love fried cheese. To lighten things up, here I pair it with a springy salad of pea shoots and charred long beans dressed in a lemony vinaigrette, though I’ve also been known to just grill up a platter of the cheese, dress it with good olive oil and pepper, and snack away.
Pea shoots are available in the spring at many farmers’ markets, but you can substitute mizuna or frisée if necessary.
Makes 4 appetizer servings
8 ounces halloumi cheese (available at Greek or Mediterranean markets), cut crosswise into eight ½-inch slices (3-by-½-by-5-inch pieces)
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for brushing
Freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
Kosher salt
1 cup Charred Long Beans, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 cup pea shoots
1 tablespoon finely chopped mixed parsley, chives, and tarragon
1 Prepare a medium-hot single-level fire in a grill (see page 149).
2 Brush the cheese slices with olive oil and season with pepper. Grill the cheese, turning once with a spatula, until charred on both sides and warmed through, 2 to 4 minutes. Transfer the cheese to four plates.
3 In a small bowl, whisk together the 2 tablespoons oil and the lemon juice. Season to taste with salt. Put the long beans, pea shoots, and herbs in a medium bowl and toss with the vinaigrette to taste.
4 Top each plate of cheese with a mound of beans and serve.
Charred Broccoli with Pecorino and Lemon
I was raised on the flavor of charred vegetables. My grandmother loved to cook vegetables in a blazing-hot skillet until they were almost blackened and took on a meaty, deeply caramelized flavor. This is the grilled version of one of her recipes. Make sure to coat the broccoli all over with oil; this will help distribute heat and lead to even charring. You can also make the recipe with smaller broccoli florets in a grill basket.
Makes 4 servings
1 large head broccoli (about 1 pound)
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
Kosher salt
¼ cup finely grated Pecorino-Romano cheese
Finely grated zest of 1 lemon
Flaky sea salt, such as Maldon
1 Prepare a medium-hot single-level fire in a grill (see page 149).
2 Trim about 2 inches off the end of the broccoli stalk and cut the broccoli into 8 long spears. In a bowl, toss the broccoli with the olive oil until well coated, then season lightly with kosher salt.
3 Grill the broccoli spears, turning them every couple of minutes, until charred all over and crisp-tender, about 8 minutes.
4 Transfer the broccoli to a platter and drizzle with olive oil. Sprinkle with the cheese, lemon zest, and flaky salt and serve immediately.
Iceberg Wedge with Warm Bacon Dressing and Blue Cheese
Several of the dishes we serve at St. Anselm are small tweaks on classic steakhouse fare. Before it was edged out of fashion, the iceberg wedge was ubiquitous on menus (and dinner tables) in the 1950s and ’60s. Instead of the usual buttermilk dressing, I contrast the crisp lettuce with a warm bacon dressing inspired by the jars of gravy-like Pennsylvania Dutch bacon dressing my family poured over salads, vegetables, and potatoes when I was a kid. This salad is one of my favorite accompaniments to a simple grilled steak.
Makes 4 servings
Bacon Dressing
6 ounces thick-cut bacon, cut into ½-inch pieces
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1½ cups water
⅓ cup cider vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Salad
1 large head iceberg lettuce, cut and cored into 4 wedges
4 ounces blue cheese, preferably Cashel, crumbled
¼ cup chopped parsley
1 Cook the bacon in a large skillet over medium heat until crisp, about 10 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the bacon to paper towels to drain. Pour the bacon fat into a measuring cup and then return ¼ cup of the fat to the skillet.
2 Heat the bacon fat over medium-low heat, then stir in the flour and cook, stirring with a wooden spoon, until the flour is lightly browned, about 2 minutes. Add the water, vinegar, sugar, and mustard, bring to a simmer, and cook, whisking frequently, until the dressing is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, about 10 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper and remove from the heat. (The dressing should have the consistency of gravy.)
3 Put the iceberg wedges on four plates. Drizzle with the warm bacon dressing and sprinkle with the reserved bacon, the blue cheese, and parsley. Serve immediately.
Essentially a grilled Caprese salad, this is a great starter or side dish to make when you’re already firing up the grill for dinner. Instead of the traditional mozzarella, use burrata, a mozzarella pouch filled with ritagli (leftover mozzarella curds) and heavy cream, which ooze out of the silky shell when you tear it apart. This buttery cheese pairs well with the sweet caramelized flavor you get from charring tomatoes over a hot fire.
The beefsteak tomato was destined for the grill: even when perfectly ripe, it’s sturdy enough to withstand the heat of the fire. Don’t try making this salad with a super-ripe heirloom tomato, or you’ll find yourself scraping tomato paste off your grill grate.
Makes 2 servings
1 large beefsteak tomato (about 12 ounces)
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 or 5 large basil leaves
One 8-ounce ball burrata cheese (available at specialty cheese shops and Italian markets)
High-quality balsamic vinegar, for drizzling
Flaky sea salt, such as Maldon
1 Prepare a hot single-level fire in a grill (see page 149), making sure to oil the grate well.
2 Cut the tomato crosswise in half and brush the cut sides with olive oil. Grill the tomato, cut side down, undisturbed, until charred, 2 to 3 minutes (your goal is to just char the surface of the tomato; you don’t want to cook the inside). Remove from the grill and season with kosher salt and pepper.
3 Stack the basil leaves and roll them up like a cigar, then slice into thin ribbons.
4 Place the burrata on a small platter and tear it in half to release the creamy curds. Arrange the grilled tomato halves on either side of the cheese and sprinkle with the basil. Drizzle the salad with olive oil and vinegar, sprinkle with flaky salt, and serve.
Charred Corn with Compound Cream Cheese
There are plenty of grilled corn recipes that call for a compound butter that’s spread over the warm corn. Using a compound cream cheese is a similar concept, but the cheese adds a bit of tang and it sticks to the ears better than butter. Here I flavor the cream cheese with za’atar, a Middle Eastern spice blend made from sesame seeds, sumac, and other spices and dried herbs. It’s nutty and herby, with a distinct tartness from the sumac.
When it comes to grilling corn, I like mine extra-charred, to the point where most of the kernels have turned dark brown and taken on a smoked nutty flavor—some blackened kernels are fine as well. Otherwise, what’s the point of grilling it?
Makes 8 servings
4 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature
1 tablespoon za’atar (see Resources), plus more for sprinkling
½ teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 ears corn, shucked
Olive oil, for brushing
1 Prepare a hot single-level fire in a grill (see page 149).
2 In a small bowl, combine the cream cheese, za’atar, lemon zest, and lemon juice and mix with a fork until smooth. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
3 Brush the corn all over with olive oil and grill, turning every minute or so, until blistered and charred all over, 8 to 10 minutes.
4 Transfer the corn to a platter and use a butter knife to spread the cream cheese all over it. Sprinkle with za’atar and serve.
Baby Eggplants with Fried Goat Cheese and Caramelized Onions
Eggplants are meant for live-fire cooking. Their flesh soaks up smoke and caramelizes nicely, becoming as meaty in texture as a vegetable can be. Use baby eggplants—their skin is still thin enough to eat and their seeds have yet to turn bitter. You could use large mature eggplants in this recipe, but in that case, peel them first.
Makes 4 to 6 appetizer servings
2 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for brushing
1 medium onion, halved and thinly sliced
1 bay leaf
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons dry white wine
Vegetable oil for deep-frying
¼ cup all-purpose flour
1 large egg
½ cup panko crumbs, finely crushed with your hands
4 ounces Montrachet or other fresh goat cheese, cut into 4 slices and kept cold
Ground coriander, preferably freshly ground
2 pounds assorted baby eggplants, cut into ½-inch slices
Honey, for drizzling
1 Make the caramelized onions: In a large skillet, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onions and bay leaf, sprinkle with salt and pepper, cover, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are softened and golden, about 15 minutes.
2 Uncover the skillet and add the wine. Bring to a simmer, scraping up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan, and cook until the liquid has evaporated, about 2 minutes. Season the onions to taste with salt and pepper and keep warm over very low heat. Remove the bay leaf before using.
3 Fry the cheese: In a medium saucepan, heat 2 inches of vegetable oil to 350°F. Put the flour on a small plate. Beat the egg in a shallow bowl. Put the panko on another small plate. Dredge the goat cheese in the flour and pat off any excess. Sprinkle all over with coriander, salt, and pepper, dip the cheese in the egg, turning to coat, and then coat with panko. Fry the goat cheese until golden brown, about 1 minute. Transfer to a wire rack to cool.
4 Prepare a medium-hot single-level fire in a grill (see page 149). Brush the eggplant slices with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Grill the eggplant slices, turning once, until tender, 2 to 3 minutes per side.
5 Arrange the eggplant and goat cheese on a platter. Scatter the caramelized onions on top. Drizzle with honey, sprinkle with coriander, and serve.
Santa Maria–Style Tri-Tip
Like Texas barbacoa, the style of barbecue popular along California’s central coast is rooted in cattle culture. In the nineteenth century, ranchers celebrated a successful roundup or marathon branding session with an all-day, Spanish-style feast. The vaqueros dug large pits, filled them with logs of red oak, and cooked various cuts of beef over the flames, serving them with tortillas, salsa, and beans.
But while traditional barbacoa has all but vanished in Texas, Santa Maria–style barbecue continues to thrive in the region along California’s central coast between San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara. Today, most of the area’s barbecue is slowly cooked on an adjustable grill that can be raised and lowered over a fire, though the choice of fuel has remained the same; many say the mild, sweet smoke of the shrubby red oak tree (aka coastal live oak) gives Santa Maria barbecue its distinctive flavor—a hint of local terroir, if you will—and makes it difficult to replicate outside of the region.
Although Santa Maria barbecue encompasses multiple cuts of beef (top sirloin is a favorite), the one most famously linked with the style is the tri-tip, an inexpensive, isosceles-shaped piece from the bottom sirloin that was usually delegated to ground beef or stew meat. It was in the early 1950s that a one-armed butcher named Bob Schutz rubbed one with salt, pepper, and garlic powder and spit-roasted it over a live fire.
Soon, local restaurants like Jocko’s, the Hitching Post, and the Far Western Tavern (see Resources) were serving their own Santa Maria–style barbecue platters, which traditionally include pinquito beans and tomato salsa—both nods to the region’s Spanish and Mexican heritage—and garlic bread. Barbecue sauce, it should be noted, is usually nowhere to be seen. These restaurants are still thriving today, as are dozens of other joints that serve Santa Maria–style barbecue, but if you find yourself in town on a Friday night, stop by the Santa Maria Elks Lodge for the weekly CYO (cook your own) dinner, a long-standing local tradition.
Some will argue that Santa Maria “barbecue” is actually grilling, because the meat is not cooked in an enclosed environment. But to me it has all the markers of barbecue: slow cooking over wood smoke. And there are plenty of folks along the central coast who will back me up on that.
The tri-tip is the tensor fasciae latae muscle, a triangular cut from the bottom sirloin, which is located near the cow’s hindquarters and just in front of the round. If your butcher doesn’t know what tri-tip is, ask for this muscle. The meat is fairly chewy and not especially fatty, so it’s best thinly sliced across the grain. In California, it’s traditionally served with pinquito beans and tomato salsa. The leftover meat also makes for excellent sandwiches.
Makes 4 servings
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1½ teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
½ teaspoon garlic powder
1 beef tri-tip roast (about 2 pounds)
½ cup soaked oak chunks or oak chips
1 In a small bowl, combine the salt, pepper, and garlic powder and mix well. Generously season the meat all over with this mixture and let sit at room temperature for 1 hour.
2 Prepare a two-stage grill with high and medium-low sides (see page 149). Prepare a wood chip packet with oak chips (see page 49) or use two chunks of hardwood.
3 Place the meat over the hot side of the fire and sear, turning once, until well charred on both sides, about 3 minutes per side.
4 Place the wood chip packet or wood chunks over the coals on the medium-low side of the grill (or under the grate and over the burner on a gas grill). Continue grilling the tri-tip, turning it every 10 minutes or so (listen to the meat to know if your grill is the right temperature—you should be able to hear the meat gently sizzle), until it reaches the desired doneness. Timing will be 30 to 35 minutes for medium-rare; an instant-read thermometer inserted in the center of the meat should register 125°F. Transfer the meat to a cutting board and let rest for 10 minutes.
5 Slice the meat ¼ inch thick against the grain and transfer to a platter. Pour any accumulated juices over the top. Serve with the beans and salsa.
These “little pink” beans are exclusively grown in the Santa Maria Valley, which makes them a natural (and almost inseparable) accompaniment for tri-tip. They stay firm when cooked and are equally good warm or at room temperature. But they’re difficult to find outside of California, so you can substitute pinto or other small pink beans.
Makes 8 servings
1 pound dried pinquito beans (see Resources) or pinto beans, picked over
4 cups water
4 ounces slab bacon, cut into ½-inch slices and quickly sear them over a hot grill before chopping.
4 ounces slab bacon, cut into ¼-inch cubes
1 red onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
2 teaspoons Colman’s mustard powder (see Note)
2 teaspoons kosher salt, or more to taste
Hot sauce
2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
1 Put the beans in a bowl and cover with cold water by 2 inches. Let soak for at least 8 hours at room temperature.
2 Drain the beans, transfer to a medium saucepan, and add the 4 cups water. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer, cover, and cook until the beans are tender, 30 minutes to 1 hour (depending on the beans and soaking time). Turn off the heat, uncover the pan, and let the beans cool in their liquid.
3 In a Dutch oven or other large pot, cook the bacon over medium heat until golden brown, about 5 minutes. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 2 minutes longer, then stir in the brown sugar, dry mustard, and salt.
4 Drain the beans in a sieve set over a bowl, reserving the cooking liquid. Add the beans and 2 cups of the cooking liquid to the pot, bring to a low simmer, and cook, stirring frequently, for 30 minutes.
5 Season the beans with salt if necessary and hot sauce to taste and garnish with the cilantro. Serve warm or at room temperature. Or let cool and refrigerate for up to 3 days.
In a nod to the area’s Mexican heritage, Santa Maria tri-tip is typically served with a tomato salsa. My version is about as simple as salsa gets, but if you want to add a layer of smoky flavor to the recipe, you can cut the tomatoes and/or onion into ½-inch slices and quickly sear them over a hot grill before chopping.
Makes 4 servings
1 pound ripe tomatoes, halved, seeded, and cut into ½-inch pieces
½ small white or red onion, finely chopped
1 jalapeño pepper, seeded and finely chopped
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Combine the tomatoes, onion, jalapeño pepper, and lime juice in a nonreactive container and season to taste with salt and pepper. Let sit for at least 30 minutes before using. The salsa can be prepared up to 1 day ahead and refrigerated.