Life before Que

…am I obsessed?


I just finished up my 4th year on the competition BBQ circuit with my own team. If you add in a season or three where I cooked a few amateur events and helped an existing team, pretty soon I realize I been fooling around this game for about 7 years. Still what I would consider somewhat of a rookie compared to many guys on the circuit, what I’ve noticed is BBQ and outdoor cooking is taking more and more of my time.


This year my team cooked in 6 contests. If you add in a weekend cooking class, 3 additional contests attended as a spectator, a Que trade show weekend, 2 judging events, a couple of catering gigs, numerous practice cooks, and before you know it there is not much time for anything else, which is exactly my point here.


When I first toyed with the idea of starting my own competition team I was still busy, or so it seemed, but I did have some free time. My lawn, while not the neighborhood showplace was at least, fed, watered, cut and trimmed. I maintained a large perennial garden at home, spent a lot of time hunting and fishing, kept my truck washed, and occasionally had time to clean the garage. Alright, I am exaggerating about the garage part, but you get my point.


It seems today, if I am not cooking, grilling or smoking, then I am at home, surfing the net looking, reading and writing about some type of outdoor cooking. I lay in bed at night thinking and scheming of ways and methods to try and improve my product. While taking my afternoon walk, I think about my equipment list and what I need to replenish before our next event. Do I need another cooker? Should I practice this weekend? What will we do for the chefs’ choice in Salisbury next spring? And on and on and on.


This is not to mention the list I have put together for products I would like to design and develop to make things easier for folks involved in competition BBQ cooking. I have a list started; I just need a couple of weeks and a few thousand dollars to finish the designing and to build a few demos to test. I am sure I’ll find the time to get to this during the offseason this winter. Yea, right.


Last night, as I returned from my walk I glanced into what, just a few short years ago, was a very fine collection of the genus Hosta. Instead of a collection that any gardener would be proud to display, I see a collection of plants that need some attention, surrounded by weeds that have been neglected and are now thriving. The entire area is quickly becoming inundated with the latest seasonal tree dropping, leaves. I continue towards the house, past my dirty truck and into my garage. The 2 car garage, which up until about 4 years ago used to actually contain a car once in a while, is now cluttered with a collection of coolers, foil pans, large pots and lids, smokers, bags of charcoal, a pig roaster, folding tables and chairs, EZ-Ups, well you get the picture.


I was thinking the other day that I should seek professional help, but decided against the idea, fearing what the councilor might say. Maybe I just need to take a time management class. I saw in the catalog that several are offered at our local Community College as non-credit adult evening classes. Maybe I am not obsessed; I just need to prioritize a bit better. I am sure I can find some time to tend to a few of the duties and tasks that have fallen victim to my addiction to Que.


Besides, if I could find a few hours a weekend, I could work on developing that new brisket and pork procedure that I read about last weekend on the internet. As for all those leaves that I see falling onto my formally well maintained lawn and garden, maybe I can get one of the neighborhood kids to rake them for me, you know, free me up for something more pressing, more important, like practicing my chicken!

Keystone BBQ Contest -Harrisburg PA- Oct 1 & 2 2010

Oooooh that smell, can’t you smell that smell?


We cooked the Keystone Classic BBQ Contest at the farm complex located in Harrisburg PA this past weekend October 1 & 2, 2010. For those that do not know, this contest was the site of our first (and only), Grand Championship trophy last year. We were defending champs. It was our time to shine, to rise above the fray and really show what we were made of….either that or we could lay an egg, stink the joint up, the choice was ours, or more specifically, mine. As they say in radio, and now, the rest of the story.


The weekend before our last scheduled contest in Harrisburg I spent the day going over the trailer, checking and rechecking, making sure all necessary gear was on board and in place. The only thing I had forgotten to do was to look at the list we keep at each contest itemizing everything we need to get before our next outing. As I glanced at the list the Wednesday before leaving for Harrisburg, I noticed I had forgotten to order more rub for our brisket. No biggie I thought, I am sure I would have enough to do the job this weekend. If that is the only Gremlin involved issue that I am going to have, this weekend coming is going to be a cake walk.


Thursday afternoon and I am humming along at work wrapping up loose ends and finishing projects as I am preparing to take Friday off for the contest. Things are going very smoothly, no problems, no issues, until late afternoon when my phone rings. Bobby stopped on his way home from work to pick up our briskets and was told due to the storm, the delivery truck never arrived. They would be in sometime late Friday afternoon, the trouble was, we’d be in Harrisburg by then. Hmmmmmm…….


Oh, did I forget to mention the storm? A huge tropic weather system was streaming up out of the south and pounding the area with very heavy rain and strong winds, which in my area translates into power outages. Some areas received over 5 inches of rain, but the weather folks said it would clear the area by Friday morning, lets hope they would be right, for once. So Thursday afternoon, between power failures, I was on the horn trying to track down a source for a couple of briskets to cook at the contest.


We cook what is known as a full brisket or packer cut, a chunk of brisket meat containing both the flat and the point cut. The problem is, when you call around and ask for the cut, many folks don’t have a clue what you are talking about. They will tell you they do carry them, when you drive to their location, you find they only have the flat cut, which is typically sold in most stores. Some “meat” guys don’t even know the difference.


I finally got a guy on the phone from a nearby Wallmart that sounded like he knew what I was talking about. He told me they had “a few briskets left”, but couldn’t hold them until the morning, (when I would be driving right past that store). So, after work, I jumped in the truck and took the 45 minute drive one way to Shrewsberry PA to check out the Wallmart briskets. Several downed trees along the way made for a bit of a longer journey, but the trip wasn’t too bad. Sure enough, they had a few in the case; two looked like they would work, I snatched them up and paid the bill, then returned home to finish readying for the contest. Take that you smelly little bugger, (the Gremlin that is).


The trip up to Harrisburg on Friday was uneventful, the rain had quit and the sun was beginning to make an appearance. Arthur wasn’t coming to the contest this week, Jo was coming up on Saturday morning, Bobby had to work a half a day on Friday, so it was Erich and I to set the site and get things started. There were two ancillary categories Friday night, burger and Lebanon bologna; we were planning to do both. Erich would do the burger while I prepared the bologna.



For a bit of a different twist, at least for contests that we have cooked, they gave the ancillary awards out on Friday night. I thought this was a good idea. We heard our name called for 10th place bologna for my submission of a chicken cordon bleu with a back fin crabmeat cream sauce. Erich’s burger was 24th. Overall, we were pretty happy. The night was cool, a light breeze, smoke in the air, it was good, at least for now.



We wondered around, had some laughs, tipped a few beers, loaded our cookers, and then turned in for the night. Not a Gremlin in sight. I was actually sleeping really well when I heard a voice. I suppose you are expecting me to tell you how the voice was telling me how good we would do in the contest or some other words of wisdom. The voice, however was saying, “George, your cooker is on fire!” Was I dreaming? I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter. I wasn’t dreaming, as I glanced outside, I saw flames leaping from the open door on the WSM, which apparently had fallen off as I slept. I could see smoke rolling into the night sky as my buddy Red Todd replaced the door on the cooker which quickly extinguished the flames. A huge thanks to my observant neighbor and Red for waking me up and putting out the fire, thanks guys. The pork butt that had been in the cooker was at temperature and was transferred to the cambro to await turn-in time, a mere 9 hours later. Oh well, might as well get a little more sleep while I can…….. They’re back.



Bobby and I get up at 6:00 to get the ribs ready for the cooker. As part of our morning routine, we check all of the big meats to see where they are in the cooking process and when they will be ready to be wrapped. A check of our number 1 brisket found it ready, not ready to be wrapped, but ready as in done, finished, ready for the rest. Which at this time would only be about 7 hours, oh joy, it just keeps on getting better.



I can’t figure it out. We did everything the same as we had always done, what is going on? Gremlins at work for sure. The short cooks for chicken and ribs would be uneventful for sure, how much worse can it get? Note to self: Never ask “how much worse can it get?” again. I have been cooking my chicken the same at every contest for the past 2 years and have cooked a piece or two for practice. I haven’t overcooked my yardbird since Dover 2007, that is, until yesterday in Harrisburg. At 11:00, my chicken was at temperature; don’t ask me how or why, because I surely don’t know. What I can tell you is holding chicken for 1 hour until it is time to turn it in doesn’t have the same effect as holding a butt or a brisket. Result, 37th place in chicken, oh boy, repeat champs, I think not. Farkin Gremlins.

Our final results were 37th in chicken, 10th in ribs, 35th in pork, 20th in brisket, good enough for 25 overall out of 45 teams. Less than mediocare is what I would call it, and that would be being nice. In short we stunk up the joint, big time.

After I returned home from this contest and spent a few hours contemplating its outcome, I cobbled up a forum post regarding a possible aroma drifting through the air at the Farm Complex. Upon further reflection and soul searching I realized what it was that I smelled. It wasn’t the aftermath and droppings from nearby livestock, it was the distinct odor wafting from my trailer as a result of my less than dismal contest performance, which, in it of itself, smelled like gremlin S**T.



The only bright spot of the day was our ribs, we received a call to the stage for 10th place in this category. Bobby has taken this category and ran with it. He has trimmed, prepped and cooked the ribs for the last 2 years for the WATG? squad, and done a great job. Many times this year, the ribs have been our only call to the stage. Thanks Robert. While I am on the soapbox for this season ending post, I would like to take a minute to thank all of my teammates, Arthur, Erich, Bobby and Jo. They help me immensely at each event, prepping, setting up, cooking, tearing down and cleaning up. At times, they have to put up with my moods, grouchiness and occasional short fuse. They even have to tolerate me bickering with my teammate/wife, which most times is as a result of the aforementioned grouchiness on my part. I couldn’t do it without them and I know it wouldn’t be near as much fun, so for that I say thanks to my teammates/friends, you are the best. We might not have walked a lot this season, but we sure laughed a lot, good times and memories for sure.


This year we competed in six events and overall didn’t do too bad. I would like to do more contests, but with a few catering gigs, a family vacation, and an occasional “off” weekend the cooking season slides by pretty quickly these days. I have dubbed this season, “the year of the ribbon” as we have won only ribbons, medals and certificates, nary a trophy to be had. I will continue to work to improve my process and concentration and look forward to next year getting back into the smoke with my teammates and all of my BBQ friends, all in the quest for the all illusive plastic pig, gremlins be damned!!

Tunes to Que by

BBQ Boogie


Go onto any of the current BBQ forums and ask the question what Pit Masters consider most important when it comes to cooking good que and see what happens. Of course, it goes without saying that you will get the standard boring run of the mill answers. You know, temperature control, knowing your cooker, good quality meat products, blah blah blah. Ask those same Pit Masters what they feel is essential to cooking good que and inevitably you’ll get the answers, good friends, cold adult beverages, and good quality tunes.


Depending upon who you ask and when, you might even be told the last 3 are more important than the first 3. The topic of what would be considered good quality tunes to que by can elicit a discussion as spirited as to which type of cooker is best. A stroll around a mid sized BBQ competition to take in the musical offerings will find an assortment of tastes ranging from head-banging to jazz to classical.


Sometimes, you can take a look at the make up of the team and pretty much predict with a reasonable degree of accuracy what type of tune will be emanating from their I-Pod speakers. A group of 50+ year old men, chances are you’ll be listening to a mixture of classic rock and the blues. Toss in a couple female teammates you can be sure a few country tunes will be heard. A couple of early 30’s cookers and your likely in for a few selections from Slipknot or Korn. At the risk of sounding too much like my parents back in the late 60’s, for the life of me, I don’t understand how they can call that stuff music, but I will leave that discussion for another day.


For us, a group consisting of a couple of guys on the back side of middle age and my wife, our Pod consists of a wide variety of selections that range between The Mills Brothers, Glen Miller, The Beatles, Muddy Waters and everything in between. Well, everything except opera. I say not opera but have forgotten about one of my favorite selections to play on turn in morning, Wagners Ride of the Valkyries, so much for my everything but opera claim.


In my recently released book Startin the Fire I have listed a collection of tunes to be included on your I Pod playlist used on turn-in morning. I have the selections broken down between prep time, the four meats and clean up. I had a ball as I collected songs to complete the lists. I used forum posts on the topic, internet searches as well as good old fashioned research sources to come up with what I consider a pretty complete listing. I always have my eyes and ears open for songs that would fit the bill and could be added to my list, which, by the way, has grown even since the book was published. I have listed what I would consider a few of the “essential” compilations that must be included on everyone’s BBQ playlist.


Chicken Shake Boogie- A tune from Amos Milburn first recorded in 1948. I enjoy the original version but prefer a newer recording by Willie And The Poor Boys, a group formed in the early 80’s by Stones bassman Bill Wyman and included an assortment of members from time to time that included Ron Wood, Charlie Watts, Jimmy Page and Ringo Starr.


Milk Cow Blues- This song has been covered by everyone from Elvis to the Kinks. My favorite cut is probably one of the earliest by Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys. If you can listen to this song without tapping your toe, I would have to question your reason to live.


I Love My Babys BBQ- Recorded by RJ’s Rhythm Rockers. A little hard to find but well worth the hunt, very snappy lyrics.


Barbeque- Robert Earl Keen. A slower selection, great for watching the smoke roll out the stack while sipping a cold drink.


Too Much Barbeque- Big Twist & the Mellow Fellows- How can you not have a tune by a band with this name on your I Pod?


Barbecue- Washboard Sam-This is an old recording that just cries out for someone to cover it again, Washboard asks, “baby, who’d you give my barbecue to?”


Mess around- Ray Charles- The first words of the song are, “talk about the pit, Barbeque”, how can you go wrong?


Good BBQ- The Riptones- “Shes a fine young thing that likes good BBQ”, nuff said.


As you can see from this small list, there is no shortage of songs about BBQ and related topics. Half the fun is hunting for them, the rest of the fun comes when you’re tapping your foot while loading your cooker or grill. Search for songs about smoke, fire, cooking, food, you can see what I am talking about. Have fun with it. I only ask that if you come up with any good ones, you drop me a line so I can add them to my playlist. I am always looking for new tunes to que by.

New Holland Summer Fest 8/27-8/28 2010

Time sure flies when you’re having fun, and one thing is for sure, we like our fun.



The calendar says that it’s the end of August and time once again for one of our favorite contests of the season, the New Holland Summer Fest. Wow, where did summer go. It seems like just last week we headed south for the season opener in Salisbury MD, Pork in the Park. While this is not our last event for the year, it certainly is a reminder that the cool nights and shorter days of fall are just around the corner.


This year, as we have done in the past, the team traveled up to New Holland PA on Thursday evening slipped into our space and got set up before dark. We took along a few dozen live blue crabs, some fresh picked sweet corn and red ripe tomatoes. Talk about a meal, steamed crabs, buttered corn on the cob, sliced Maryland tomatoes and ice cold beer. It don’t git no better then this! It was a tremendous fest and a great way to mark the waning days of summer.


Being set up at a contest site when you get out of bed on Friday morning sure is the way to go. Much less rushing around, able to relax, enjoy the day, visit a bit, it just makes for a much more enjoyable contest experience. It is easy to see why several teams make it their SOP to arrive on site on Thursday evening. Not to mention the fact that early bird teams get an additional night to play before the real business of contest cooking begins on Friday night. And play we did, nuff said.


Last year the weather gods did very little for the fine folks that run the Summer Fest but they made up for it this year as beautiful skies and very comfortable temperatures were the rule of the day. It was great weather for sleeping outside; even cool enough to zip up the sleeping bag as there was a bit of chill in the night air. The best part though, was that it was dry.


The prep work and trimming went off without a hitch, things were going along very smooth, almost too smooth. I should have found it a little suspicious as the appointed hour for the cooks meeting crept closer and closer. Usually, I can persuade a team member to volunteer to attend to represent the team but this evening, no one stepped forward, in fact, they were as a group being fairly elusive. Being all caught up with my prep work due to our early arrival, I reluctantly trudged off to attend as our team representative without giving a second thought as to the source of their reluctance. I had a slight feeling that something was afoot, but could not isolate it, and quickly dismissed the thought as my pea sized brain switched into contest mode and was thinking about the times and tasks that laid ahead.


Twenty seven years as a law enforcement officer you think I would have learned to always follow my gut instinct, especially when you have a gut the size of mine, that’s a lot of instinct! As I ambled back from the meeting with my goodie bag in hand I rounded the corner at our site and was met with a very humorous sight. There stood each and every member of my team all sporting straw skyzoo’s with tropical headbands identical to the one that I have taken to wearing at contests. Too funny.


Regular readers will know that I began wearing my current contest headpiece a little over a year ago. The hat has become the target of some minor ridicule and scoffing from many members of the team. The result of which has prompted me to make the hat required headgear for each and every contest that we cook. I even had a cook on another team tell me at Bel Air as I was wearing old faithful, “Man, you need a new look”. I attribute the comment to too much alcohol consumption on his part, (it was rather late Friday night), and the fact that the lighting wasn’t what it should have been. Or it could have been too much alcohol consumption on my part, either way.


While at various contests my hat has been stolen, filled with things, and clamped to the top center strut of our canopy. It has been hidden from my view, screwed to the interior wall of the trailer, held for ransom, and a few other things too gruesome or obscene to mention considering this is a family show. I have a good idea that a person or persons on my team have been responsible. That’s right; I have determined it is an inside job, possibly a group effort. I didn’t do 27 years in law enforcement for nothing, just call me Inspector Clouseau.


Upon closer inspection, the headbands for the guys had been inscribed with the words, “we were those guys” a reference to the team name they plan to take when they secede from out current arrangement. The headband on Jo’s hat, yes, she had on too, said, “I am stuck with that guy.” Poor Jo, what a riot.


From the best information I could piece together during the subsequent investigation that ensued, the scheme was hatched by Bobby who then enlisted his wife into the caper for assistance. I am sure it was a group effort to some degree, but either way, it sure was a good one. I just wish there had been someone on site to snap a picture of my expression when I rounded that corner, I am sure it would have been a winner.


We cooked a pretty good contest, 72 teams, and we finished 7th overall. We received 3calls to the stage, 10th place ribs, (good job Bobby), 10th place chicken, and 6th place chefs choice, (which was cooked again this year by Jo, well done) We have been fairly solid all year either in or just outside the top 10 at every event, not bad for a couple of part timers, especially part timers sporting matching straw hats. One thing is for certain, we sure have a lot of fun!

The Bel Air BBQ Bash 8/13-8/14 2010

Me a pokerface?..... You have got to be kidding.


The Bash in Bel Air is my hometown contest. Just a short 15 minute drive from my home I look forward to cooking this event for several reasons. The first is the short drive, especially for the return trip. I don’t usually notice the distance TO a contest probably because I am excited and anticipating the event. When it comes time to the drive home, it sure is nice to be pulling into the driveway just after getting on the road. It would be nice if they were all that close.


Another reason I like this contest is the huge crowds that attend. Event organizers estimated this year’s crowd at 25,000 for the 2 day event and I’ll bet they weren’t far off. It is great to see so many folks that have some interest in BBQ or outdoor cooking. It is also nice to have folks that I know drop by the site for a visit. While I don’t always have the time I would like to spend with each guest, it is very nice to spend even a few minutes with some of the fine people that make up our community of Harford County Maryland.


The third reason that this event is special to me is this is where I got my start, cut my BBQ teeth so to speak. It was back in 2004 when I first cooked the Tailgater Challenge, the amateur contest that is held on Friday night at the Bash. I walked away from that event with a ribbon for 6th place and was hooked on competition BBQ. I guess that was a good thing, although some would certainly be willing to debate the issue. I later found out that my friend Dan from 3 Eyz BBQ also started his BBQ career at the 2004 Tailgater Challenge. Small world for sure.


I think the Tailgater is a great way for folks that are thinking about getting involved with competition Que to test the waters and get a feel for the contest setting. The folks at Bel Air do a great job with this event and even try to use KCBS judges to sample the wares and give the competitors a score sheet, just like in a regular KCBS event. Each team is given 2 racks of baby back ribs to cook, they then have to follow KCBS rules for rib turn-in, at least 6 separate bones must be submitted.


As I have said in the past, competition que is increasing in popularity. It is plainly evident here in Bel Air with the numbers for the Tailgater. In years past the number of teams has fluctuated between 12 & 15. This year they had 33 teams signed up to cook the contest that begins at 1 PM on Friday afternoon.


I took a stroll around the Tailgater lot around 4:00 on Friday and it was great to see all of the folks with their set-ups having fun and talking BBQ. In my opinion, this is a good sign for competitive BBQ cooking, no matter how you slice it, thank you Pitmasters!


I was approached by the contest organizers one day last week and asked if I would be interested in announcing the winners for the Challenge Friday night. I had donated a few copies of my book to be included into some prize packs they were putting together for the top finishing teams. The organizers were very kind in promoting my book to the hometown audience and thought it would be a good fit if I would make the announcement. I agreed and arrived at the stage at the appointed hour.


Oh, I almost forgot to mention that my Son Sam decided at the last minute to cook the Tailgater with his girlfriend Megan. They had cooked the event back in 2008 but skipped last year due to Sam’s work schedule at the time. They both have very busy schedules so it wasn’t until Thursday night before the cook that Sam was running around gathering his tools and materials needed for the contest. As it turned out, Sam would have to work a half of day Friday so Megan would set up and begin the process before Sam could arrive.


Their path to the judges tent brought them past my site so Sam showed me his box and dropped off a rib for me to sample. I’ll have to say, the box looked good and the rib was cooked perfectly, the bite came away cleanly, while the rest of the meat stayed on the bone. The kids done good.


You can imagine my surprise as I stood on the steps to the stage just minutes before the awards and saw Sam’s team as the 2nd place finisher. I wanted to jump up and down but though I’d better not. Instead, I leaned over to the organizers and explained the situation. I wanted to be sure they were aware before I got started in case they wanted to make a change of announcers. They did not, and I was glad, now, for the hard part.


I had to step to the microphone with the knowledge I had and try not to give it away on a silver platter. I knew that my family would be staring a hole through me in an attempt to get an early read on the results. You see, I am not a very good poker player or liar, and they know it. In my mind, all I had to do was avoid eye contact and everything would be alright. It didn’t hurt that the crowd was huge so I didn’t have to concentrate my looking to any one particular spot. It also didn’t hurt that my teammates and friends had also decided to attend the awards ceremony and were collectively tossing boo’s and catcall’s my way once I had been introduced, in an attempt to distract me. For once, having knuckleheads for friends and teammates was paying off. I knew that one day it would!


I worked my way through the calls until I finally got to second place. I called my Sons team and fought of the urge to yell, “that’s my boy!” I finished the announcements without embarrassing myself or my Son and all was right in the sleepy town of Bel Air, at least for the evening it was.


Turn-ins went extremely well on Saturday. We had a lot of folks stop by our site, but everyone stayed out of the way and was not a problem or a bother. They left everything thing to me to mess up. I thought that we turned in some really good stuff, including what I felt was some of the best brisket that we have ever cooked. Unfortunately, as has been the case for most of this year, the judges did not agree. We were 14th overall, not too shabby in a 59 team field but again no dingers. Chicken was 14th, ribs 18th, 24th in pork and 22nd in brisket. A solid performance, but as usual, we would have liked to have done better.


We will see if we can improve a bit in two weeks when we return to our favorite contest of the year the New Holland Summer Fest in New Holland Pa. There will be 72 teams cooking this event which includes many top flight operations. Congrats this week to Bash winners Cool Smoke and Reserve Champs Chix, Swine and Bovine for a job well done, And also a special congrats to the 2nd place winner of the Tailgate Challenge, Young Guns BBQ Team……..yep, that’s me boy!

I am a BBQ slob

and damn proud of it!


I am sure you know someone like me, perhaps even you yourself has been afflicted. You know the type, the kind of guy that always has a stain on his shirt and or tie, even if he has just gotten dressed. If you toss in a pair of wrinkled pants and a shirt….you’ve got me nailed.



I spend 26 years working in law enforcement wearing a uniform, so I never had to purchase clothes to make a good appearance at work. Suffice it to say, I would never have been considered a poster boy for the fine men and woman in uniform. No matter how hard I tried, and believe it or not, I did try in my younger years; I just couldn’t maintain the look of a sharp dressed man like some of my counterparts. Eating and drinking while in a squad car always had disastrous results. I would swear that on more than one occasion, mayonnaise from my partner’s lunch would drip from their sandwich onto my tie rendering me as the stereotypical slob flatfoot, while my partner continued to look like they were destined for a walk-on spot for the next episode of Adam-12.



No one would ever confuse me with a clothes horse or a slave to fashion. I have always more or less gone my own way when it comes to wardrobe. Casual dress would be an overstatement when one would attempt to label my nonexistent fashion sense. The problem develops on those occasional instances when a pair of shorts and a tee shirt just don’t fit the bill, you know, weddings, funerals and the like.



My wife has always been saddled with attempting to dress a complete fashion slob/bum. Before jumping into the shower, I would take from the closet the clothes I planned to wear to the afternoon wedding we were invited to attend. Upon returning to our room after my shower, I find that a completely different set of clothes has been laid out, this time they actually match is what I am told.



While at a BBQ contest, I try and wear an apron at all times. I also carry along a couple of changes of shorts and shirts in case they are needed. Usually by late Friday night, my original apron is ready for the wash machine and it is time to change into apron #2. It never fails that several globs of sauce or meat drippings find their way around my apron and onto my clothing. Most times, I am too busy to change and end up walking to the awards looking like I just crawled out from under a cooker.



This brings me to the point of this pointless blather passing for my July post. As you may or may not know, I have recently had my first book published. The ride as a newly published author has been pretty exciting for me. A guy whose only other brush with publicity came when my name was mentioned in the local paper interviewing patrons of the 4th of July parade along its route. I had two friends call to say they saw my name in the article. I assumed that was my 30 minutes of fame that everyone talks about.



So you can imagine my excitement when the local cable TV station called and invited me into the studio on a show where they speak to local artists and authors. “What should I wear?” I inquired to the nice lady that called with the last minute instructions. “Light blue will be fine” I was told when I asked her about wearing the shirt my wife had made for me to wear to the appearances I was making for my new book. The shirt was a 3 button, pull over, golf type shirt complete with the logo from my book over the left pocket, you know, the kind that real authors wear.



The interview was scheduled for early afternoon, so I thought I would get ready, leave a little early and run a few errands while I was out. I got out my duds, which included my fancy pants book shirt,and dashed into the bathroom for a quick shower and a shave in a feeble attempt to at least look like someone important. As I stood before the mirror shaving and contemplating the questions that I might be asked I must have lost concentration for a brief moment which resulted in me lopping off a small portion of one of my chins.



I couldn’t believe it, here I was scheduled for my ever first television interview in 4 short hours and I had decided to carve a gash into my flesh so deep that I was wondering out loud if I was going to need a stitch. As I stood watching the gobs of toilet paper turn bright red as I applied direct pressure to my wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, I heard my wife calling out to me. “George, what do you have all over the front of your shirt?”



This must be a dream or better yet a nightmare. I had worn the shirt just 3 days earlier to a book signing, it was fine then. On the way home that day, I stopped at Taco bell for lunch, but I was sure I was careful. I did move a few things around in my BBQ trailer that afternoon, but I could have sworn I had changed shirts first.



After getting the transfusion under control and with a large hunk of blood stained TP dangling from my chin, I staggered into my room to survey the stain. My thinking was if it is small enough the camera would never notice. Of course it was not small, it would have been noticeable from 40 feet away, time for plan B.



Quick, into my extensive collection of decent, unstained, presentable shirts that still fit my portly frame. Needless to say, the collection is not very large but I was able to find a shirt that fit the bill, and surprisingly, it also still fit me. I still to this day don’t understand how shirts that fit me perfectly just 2 years ago become smaller and shrink just from hanging in the closet. I am sure it has something to do with the laws of physics and fabric, but I assure you, it is way over my head.



Thank God that my wife is a registered nurse and was able to stop the bleeding by applying a tourniquet around my neck. She did live up to her promise that she would relieve the pressure occasionally so that I could breathe. I turned my interview shirt inside out for the ride to the studio just in case any overhead birds might have a case of diarrhea and want a laugh. I arrived on time, unstained and not bleeding, for me it was a victory. I still can’t forget the expression on that poor woman’s face that was parked in the car next to me on the studio parking lot as I struggled out of and then back into my shirt while standing next to my truck, “It’s OK”, I told her, “I’m an author”. I am not sure, but I think she called security.



The interview came off OK. As I watch it, I think to myself I look a little stiff. Perhaps it is because I am dressed up, you know, out of my element. In retrospect, I think I would have felt more comfortable and at ease if I had on my sauce stained apron, a dirty tee shirt and a pair of crusty shorts, more in my comfort zone. I am, after all, a BBQ slob and damn proud of it!

Upper Marlboro MD 6/4-6/5 Beltway BBQ Showdown

Mired in Mediocrity


Watkins Regional Park, just outside of Washington DC, was the third location for this 4th year contest and in our opinion was the best so far. The teams were situated in a parking lot that offered some nice shady spots for the teams that began arriving as early as Thursday evening. Jonathan Jones, the contest organizer has grown this event from 16 teams in 2007 to its present size of 39 entries.


Four years ago this was the first contest that we ever cooked. We were nervous in the service back in 2007, and have cooked a ton or two of BBQ since then, both good and bad. Either way, we were glad to be returning to the scene of the crime, back where it all began so to speak.


Jonathan is not sure where next years event will be held, but he promises that things will continue to grow and improve. A strong and dedicated group of Parks & Recreation employees along with a great bunch of volunteers will assist Jonathan in his quest to make the contest better each year.


The field included some new teams as well as some of the most seasoned in the Mid Atlantic region. The weather threatened at times, but the BBQ karma kept the rain away and the most the teams had to deal with was the heat, which wasn’t all that bad, reaching 95 degrees under our canopy during turn-ins. At least there was a bit of a breeze at times to make things somewhat bearable.


You’ve heard the old adage, “You’d better quit while you’re ahead.” Well, as is the case with most old sayings, there’s a whole lot of truth in them there words! As some of you know, we won our first Grand Championship last October in Harrisburg PA. Before that, we had been on a bit of a roll, at least as far as we were concerned.


Then came Dover and the rain and the wind. We were 16th out of 81 teams without a call to the stage. Oh well, we were still flying high from Harrisburg, and it was the last event for the year for us, we’ll get em in Salisbury.


Spring time came along with renewed hope and a lot of that other crap and before we knew it, it was time to fire up the cookers and head to the Eastern Shore. We heard our name called for 7th in ribs and left with a 21st place finish out of a strong 132 team field. Not bad, but certainly not impressive.


Green Lane PA was next for us, we had taken RGC there the year before so our hopes were high. A rib and brisket call did little to soften the sting of an 8th place overall finish in a 49 team event.


This week we returned to Upper Marlboro where we finished 4th last year. I thought our stuff was pretty good, (I know, that’s the kiss of death), and again, we struggled, finishing 9th against 39 teams. No calls to the stage. Believe me, I am not complaining, I just ain’t happy. It appears that the watg? squad is mired in mediocrity or stuck in a funk as it were. We are halfway through our season; we have cooked 3 and have 3 more to go, with the possibility of maybe adding one more. Anyway you look at it, our season is almost over. Somebody better step to the plate, and that somebody is me.


It looks to me like the Big Cheese, sometimes known as the Big Head, better ante up. Whatever I have been doing, I better do it better. I need a couple of dingers, and I mean homeruns. Bel Air, next on a schedule is not until August. I have plenty of time to get ready, I better not spend it frittering away in some resort in the south of France wearing nothing but a Speedo. AAARRRGGGGGG! I just got a mental image that I’d rather not repeat!


Instead of working on my tan, I need to get busy improving the taste and tenderness of my products. I need to reverse the trend and begin to get better with each outing, to struggle from the chains of averageness and to strive to soar like an eagle. You can pick any cliché that you want but the fact remains, times a wastin, and I better git to it. Hey, I wonder if that has already been said? Perhaps a new old adage will be born from our run-of the mill or middle of the road struggle, which ever you care to call it. I know for me, it’s been a fair to middling season so far, and I don’t much like it. Stay tuned, hopefully I can turn us around.


This years contest Grand Champion was 3 Eyz BBQ from Owings Mills MD, who also captured top honors in last years event. Dan Hixon, Dan McGrath and Chris Hall made up the 3 Eyz squad and took first place in both the rib and brisket category. They also won a 4th place trophy in the pork division. The contest Reserve Grand Champ was Texas Ribs and BBQ. The top spot in chicken went to Chix, Swine, and Bovine from Columbia MD with Smokey Bottom Boys from Abingdon MD bringing home the bacon and the first place iron in pork. Congrats to all that were called!!

The Future of Que….

Come, lets have a look....you might not like what you see!


In Rod Serlings voice:
You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's the signpost up ahead - your next stop, the Twilight Zone!"


The year is 2020, the location is Anytown, USA, it is late June and the BBQ community is anxiously awaiting a contest scheduled to be held in the town park. Contrary to how it was way back in 2010, the number of events has begun to shrink dramatically. Many venues that once hosted contests that fielded 75-100 teams have gone away. Organizers and planners that for years had run top notch events have found it much easier to host basket weaving and kite flying contests than to deal with the myriad of issues associated with a BBQ cook-off.


This event, one of the few remaining in this mid sized northeastern State, has decided to attempt to comply with the new Government regulations and hold the contest. Despite the ever growing chance to loose money and open itself to years of frivolous litigation from everyone from the contest cooks to the townsfolk that will file suit complaining about having the sweet blue BBQ smoke permeate their airspace for the weekend. Surely they could get a jury to agree that this is harmful to someone, somewhere, can’t they?


The event is still held on Friday and Saturday of the contest weekend, however, teams must report to the contest site no later than noon on Thursday. Upon arrival and registration, the teams must open their vehicles and trailers to a barrage of inspections from various departments representing the local and federal government agencies.


First, there are the folks from the local emission control division. Teams are made to pull their cookers into a portable flameproof structure and then light them up. Here a committee of environmental pointy heads in oversized lab coats and thick glasses will determine the carbon footprint likely to be left by the contest entrant. If it is determined that the expected footprint will be too large, (and I wear a size 13 wide), teams could be asked to forgo using a particular cooker or to limit the amount of meat that will be prepared. Teams may also be given the opportunity to plant trees or purchase carbon credits to help offset the alleged damage that their mere presence at this contest will likely produce. All in the name of global warming you understand.


Next to come are the good people from permits, fees and licensing. Due to the fall of the real estate market back in 2007-2010 local coffers have been a bit depleted, what with losing all of those settlement and transfer fees that are charged each time you finance or refinance a mortgage transaction. So, the quick thinking, ever resourceful bureaucrats have developed some very creative ways to raise funds on the backs of the working class taxpayers. Raising taxes and fees instead of the politicians actually reducing their staff expenses, salaries, and or expenditures, yea, that is the ticket. They have decided to assess each competing team with an environmental impact fee, (Dependent upon the size of the ole carbonic shoe), as well as a gathering permit fee, a waste creation fee, a waste disposal fee, a 2 day liquor license, a water usage fee, and a food service fee. After all, the team members are serving the judges with food, aren’t they?


Teams have been serving food to the judges since the entire concept began back in the early 80’s. I was surprised that it took local tax collectors this long to catch on. If you have food service happening, you are now clearing the way for the jackbooted Nazis in the health department to make their way into your site. Seeing as how each team is acting as its own little food service platform for each and every contest weekend, these folks have decided that it is up to them to police the great unwashed formally known as contest cooks at each and every venue. These storm troopers enter your site armed with their test strips, insta-read thermometers, water flow gauges and local regulation book and are prepared to exclude, exploit, berate, belittle, admonish, suspend, cite or arrest any violators or potential violators before the public ever arrives, all in the interest of public safety you understand.


The fire marshal has scheduled his inspection for late on Thursday afternoon. If you are lucky enough for him to be on time, you will have to provide notarized documentation of the fire retardant rating for all of your contest equipment. Cookers, tents, e-zy ups, cots, chairs, tables all must be rated to withstand a class IV fire, lest you be asked to leave the premises immediately. Oh yea, and they also want to see your fire suppression equipment, which must include a federally approved turn-out coat, fire retardant leggings and a official Fireman Bob helmet that includes a full frontal face shield. At least one member of your team MUST be qualified as a nationally rated citizen firefighter, and must present a current membership card as proof upon demand. The safety of the tax paying public is paramount you understand.


The local solicitor’s office representative is the last step in Thursday’s fun. Here the County attorney or his available lackey will have you read, initial and sign 150 pages of legal mumbo jumbo that attempts to release them and implicate you in everything from world famine to the latest skirmish in the Middle East. Oh, and did I mention the $50 per night per team camping fee that they will have to collect, in advance? Never mind that you will be sleeping in your truck, you must cough it up any-who, someone has to help pay for the local law library to keep the ever growing number of attorneys educated. Some one must be responsible for coming up with the thousands of frivolous suits that are filed on a daily basis.


Along with the sunrise on Friday morning the first visitor to your site will be probably the most important, second only possibly to the contest judges, and that is the cat from the sanitation division. Technology has really poked its head into all corners of our existence in the year 2020, we are so past hand held computers and in car navigational devices. This fellow has a small laptop with him and had no trouble getting a wireless internet connection. He asks a few semi pertinent questions, how many team members you have on site? How much beer and additional food have you brought along? He plugs it all into some high brow computer program which can calculate the estimated waste that will be produced by each human being in the site. He then translates this information into some type of an environmental impact statement. Which he then transforms into an additional fee which some folks have taken to calling the “flush tax”, why? I don’t know. I will leave that contemplation for greater minds than mine.


The nice lady from the solid waste and recycling division is the last person that you will be visited by on Friday morning prior to having your meats inspected by the contest reps, sort of like the ghost of Christmas yet to come. She presents you with a small spiral notebook containing no less that 75 pages of printed material regarding the rules, regulations, expectations and impact fees that you need to know about before moving forward. Some of it is pretty standard stuff, you know, you must wet down, sift and prepare for reuse any unburned chunks of fuel lumps.


It should be noted that in the year 2020, charcoal, as we know it today, can no longer be manufactured and or sold in the US. Environmentalists concerned about the plight of the North American Beaver had the import and manufacturing of charcoal and charcoal related products stopped in the year 2015. Fuel lumps are a man made fuel source product that is produced by a newly formed government agency that was formally known as the waste water treatment division…..I don’t want to know any more.


The rest of her spiel has to do with what you are expected to do with the waste your team will produce during the contest weekend. ALL contest waste MUST be separated for recycling and proper disposal. Aluminum cans, glass bottles, and paper are dealt with in the old fashioned way of collection and submission for recycling. The only difference in the future will be instead of being paid for your waste, you will have to PAY to have it accepted, budget shortfalls you know.


Meat scraps will be collected, bagged, and refrigerated before being collected late on Saturday afternoon; fees will be assessed based on the weight of the waste submitted for disposal. Gray water/grease collection and separation is the responsibility of each team. Teams are encouraged to filter, boil and reuse waste water once the grease has been removed. Remember- each team will only be allowed 35 gallons of fresh water based on the entry fee. Any amount over the allowable amount will be billed on a per gallon basis. Grease collection fees will be also based on amount submitted upon departure, however, teams are encouraged to take solidified grease waste back to their homes to be used as bird food or axel lubricant.


Any and all vegetable leftovers or trimmings must be composted on site by the attending team. All teams must have on their site a portable composting drum as well as a compost collection bagging system and sealer. Of course, the above described composting system must be displaying all up to date permits and proof of fee payment stickers. Teams are responsible for their own compost removal from the contest site.


The last and certainly not least inspector to stagger, I mean stroll into your site on Friday is the Liquor Board representative. This guy is supposed to check your documentation needed for transporting beer or alcoholic beverages across County lines. The only good thing here is we see that beer is STILL allowed at most BBQ contests in the year 2020. This guy asked to see our beer, could barely count, took one out and said something about a test sample before wandering away with our bottle in hand. Someone thought they heard him say, “heres mud in your eye” as he strolled away.


The awards ceremony on Saturday afternoon has also changed from what it once was. In the early years of BBQ contests, you had winners in each category as well as a reserve and a grand champ for each event. After several very high profile lawsuits filed by teams that felt they had been wronged by the judging process, contest organizers have decided to do away with any category or overall recognition.


Also contributing to this “progressive” way of thinking is the proliferation of the thought process that has grown from our little leagues, school systems and recreation programs where in there are no winners and losers. In consideration of the former non-winners “feelings” the sanctioning bodies have decided that there will be nothing but winners at the contest awards ceremonies. Therefore, each participating team, regardless of their finish, will be called to the stage, in random order of course, to collect the exact same trophy as everyone else. After all, we have to be fair don’t we?


I guess now would be a good time to remind you that this story is purely fictional and for your entertainment purposes only. I do not want BBQ pit masters and enthusiasts to run screaming into the night much the way many of the public did back in 1938 when the “War of the Worlds” was broadcast on radio.


While the majority of this story is manufactured way back in the recesses of my not so large mind, it does emit a shred of truth. A few of the points I have made have or are preparing to happen. Last fall while cooking a contest in Dover DE we encountered a bit of foul weather. Moderate to heavy rain along with gusty winds and temperatures in the mid 40’s made for an unpleasant and chilly afternoon. Our team had erected a 10x20 foot canopy that included 4 walls. Inside, we had a small propane heater running in a feeble attempt to take the chill off while we prepped our meat on Friday afternoon.


The temporary structure that we had constructed served to keep most of the rain and wind away; it was hardly what one would consider as “air tight” or “waterproof”. At some point that afternoon we were visited by a young fellow that said he was with the local Fire Department. We invited him into our humble abode as we assumed he was there to inspect our fire extinguisher. He glanced around and then told us we would have to either turn off the space heater or open both ends of our non air tight structure to allow for more air to flow through. (Oh, and did I mention we had all of the roof vents open on the structure?) After 10 minutes of discussion as to the properties and movement of air, gasses and wind speeds, I realized I would have had better luck arguing with the piece of pork I was trimming. We opted to turn off the space heater as opposed to opening both ends of our cover and creating a wind tunnel similar to the ones used to test high speed race cars. All in the interest of preventing carbon monoxide collection, for our own good, you understand.


While speaking with several other cooks at a contest several weeks ago, I heard of a recent battle a hopeful contest organizer in Virginia was having with their local Heath Department. It seems the HD wanted to make each competing team apply as food service vendors. They would be required to operate under the same standards as folks that were vending the event to the public which included meat refrigeration; (coolers were not allowable), sanitary inspections, vender licensing fees, the whole nine yards. After several months of back and forth negotiations, the organizer felt as though he was fighting a loosing battle and has tossed in the towel. Who is the winner here? You decide.


In case you have been living in a cave for the past 5 years, today’s buzz word is “Green”. I have news for you; it won’t be long before someone sets their sites on the hundreds of BBQ teams and contests held through this great Country of ours from February to December each year.


As for the future of Que, I feel we are here for the long haul. I do, however think that at times, folks in decision making positions have gone a little over the top when it comes to protecting us from ourselves. I encourage everyone to keep their eyes and ears open. Pay attention; let your voices be heard, keep stoking the fires and making the smoke rise. We are the future of Que, and I for one don’t want to see it end, it is a great American tradition, think about it.