I can take them or leave them.
The kind you eat, I mean. I find the ones in my body that protect my heart and other internal organs to be absolutely essential.
Hubby Bryan, on the other hand, is a rib connoisseur. I know it’s sexist, but I think it’s a man thing — maybe a prehistoric urge to chew on bones?
So every couple of months, HB buys a slab of ribs and experiments with some new cooking technique or rub.
Such was the case on Sunday night. And I have to admit the results were delicious. I’m not sure how exactly he did it, although this is what I observed:
HB rubbed the slab of ribs with several different rub concoctions, including one I recently received from the McCormick spice promotions people — an applewood rub. Then he wrapped them up in foil, adding some homebrewed beer to the packet before completely sealing it, and then let the ribs cook low and slow for a couple of hours in the oven.
When the couple of hours were up, he lit the gas grill (HB prefers the charcoal grill, but went with gas for expediency) and moved the ribs from the foil packet to the grill grates. It wasn’t an easy task, as the meat was already falling off the bone. Although it was a messy proposition, he basted the ribs with a bit of jazzed-up barbecue sauce until they developed a nice crust.
We devoured the ribs shortly thereafter with some cheesy hashbrown potatoes (recipe tomorrow) and cole slaw.
I think it was HB’s best batch yet — and I told him so. Usually, when he makes ribs, I just nibble at them. This time I relished them.
I know that in competition barbecue circles, ribs are not cooked until the meat falls off the bone, but that’s how I like them — with a chewy bit of crust on the outside. And I greatly appreciated HB’s rib-cooking effort this time around. If he continues to cook them like that, I, too, could become a rib devotee.