simpson bbq

Every once in a while I like to look through the search terms that bring internet users to this blog, and it’s usually an experience that mixes sadness, alarm, and hilarity. Each term below was entered into a search engine in the past three months and brought me a visitor. Enjoy.

death by smores – I suppose there are worse awesome ways to die.

2 55 gallon steel drum stacked smoker – Damn clever idea. I just need a soldering torch and some more barrels.

triple barrel 55 gallon drum smoker – So, one is good; Two is better. Is three excessive or awesome?

best beer to drink with lobster – The answer sure as heck isn’t Lobster Lovers’ Beer, which is the best beer to drink if you want to punish yourself.

beer with pcp in it – Uh… that sounds like a terrible idea. Home brewers are getting a little too creative.

wild bills fireworks store – One of the best pictures I’ve ever taken. Glad to help!

arab dad making chicken – What?

apple jacks unhealthy – Huh?

amateur affair tumblr – Seriously?

jp losman fajita – WTF?!

pro bono patent – Go away, you cheapskate.

simpson bbq forsale – I’m somewhat intrigued…

big flats birthday cake – I’m extremely intrigued…

short guy drinking beer – YES. The search engine brought the searcher to this picture.

ralph wiggum alcohol – This also brings me joy. But who searches for something like this?

dan simpson bbq beer blog – You’d think that anyone who knows I have this blog would know the very simple URL. Was that search necessary?

In case you care to follow me, I am on Twitter @dtsjr.

I first joined a few years ago to follow sportswriters for fantasy baseball and football info, but have recently been more engaged in some comedic and/or lawyerly interests. Plus, I post some BBQ news from time to time.

By following me, you can see such bonus photographic gems as these, things that don’t make it onto this blog:

Want to see my chili dog and PBR lunch? Follow me on Twitter.

Want to see some insane chicken wings I made? Follow me on Twitter.

Want to see toys I covet for myself? Follow me on Twitter.

These and other pathetic inanities can be yours if you are interested, and they’re all there on the Twitter app or website. Follow me, because I’m sure as shit not becoming your Facebook friend, and I don’t even know what Google+ is about.

Today is Election Day in the USA. I voted like a “good” citizen.

This is not a political blog and almost certainly never will be. My politics are both evolving and my own.

In this one rare instance, however, Simpson BBQ endorses voting NO on Proposition B in Missouri.

Prop. B would raise the state tax on a pack of cigarettes from 17 cents (lowest in the USA) to 90 cents (close to the national average). Of the funds raised, estimated to be at least $283 million per year, the money has been “earmarked” – 50% for public schools, 30% for higher education, and 20% for smoking cessation. Here’s the P-D editorial in favor of the measure, and this is the actual proposal.

Let’s start with the famous quote from Martin-Niemöller:

First they came for the communists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a communist.

Then they came for the socialists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.

Then they came for me,
and there was no one left to speak for me.

What the hell has this got to do with a cigarette tax hike? Perhaps some creative liberties with the quote will illuminate.

First they came for the marijuana users,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a marijuana user.

Then they came for the sugary soda drinkers,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a sugary soda drinker.

Then they came for the cigarette smokers,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a cigarette smoker.

Then they came for me,
and there was no one left to speak for me.

I like beer. I mean…, I really like beer. I drink it often, along with other alcoholic beverages. It’s regulated and taxed as much as anything else.

I don’t, however, use marijuana. If I am drinking soda, it’s Diet Pepsi. And, no, I don’t smoke cigarettes. I indulge in one or two cigars a year (then regret it the next day) and I have probably only smoked, in aggregate, perhaps two packs of cigarettes in my entire life.

Cigarettes aren’t my vice, so why should I care about this tax hike?

It’s easy to vote YES on Proposition B because cigarettes aren’t your vice. The enticement of “extra” tax revenue (a dubious claim, as I will speculate below) is appealing, especially in a state that could use some more revenue during a recession. Getting our lowest-in-the-land tax raised to the national average makes sense, if you are feeling conformist.

But, what about the things that are your vices? Lots of people drink beer and spirituous beverages and wine… why not tax them next? Why not start taxing fatty foods, in addition to the sodas? Bacon, pork ribs, cheeseburgers, fried foods, frying oils, candy… all potential sources of revenue for a cash-strapped state.

I married an educator, and I believe in the value of education (if my crippling student loan debt is any indicator), but I am highly skeptical that the state education system sees a windfall. Sure, $100M+ may be “earmarked” for public schools. Who says it’s spent wisely, fairly, evenly? Who says the existing funds for schools won’t be reallocated to other expenditures now that extra revenue is coming from cigarettes? What about the revenue from all of the out-of-state smokers who cross into Missouri to buy cigarettes, and then buy food, gas, etc. while they are here?

Yes, I believe cigarettes are vile products made by heartless multinational conglomerates who have lied and will continue to lie to us all the time. I also believe that it’s your right to smoke and face the horrific consequences of your actions.

I don’t, however, believe that adding tax is going to get people to stop smoking. I don’t believe the state government will stop at cigarettes. I don’t think the money will be used as promised.

All that being said, my gut reaction is that this measure passes and the smokers of the state will pony up a few cents more per pack. Then when the alcohol tax hike comes along, they’ll vote for that, too… it’s only fair, right?

Nothing BBQ-related to report. Have a safe Halloween, people.

Boo

In unrelated news, I think we found the Christmas card photo, a record two months early.

Avengers Assemble! Not quite…

For anyone interested, my fake blood recipe: 30 oz reddish/pink dish soap (grapefruit scented), a bunch of red food dye, a little less green food dye, a tablespoon of flour, and a packet of cocoa mix.

Once again, I will share some of the amazing search terms that brought people to my humble BBQ & beer blog.

The most popular entry, by a very large margin, is my tutorial on how I turned some unsightly industrial refuse into the ugly drum smoker known as Big Blue. The next two are my parboiled pork ribs (I’m sorry, BBQ world) and my experiment with cedar planking rainbow trout.

After that, it’s a random mixture of BBQ or beer-related posts. My plea to eliminate the kicking game from fantasy football is a top 10 blog post. A lot of people hate kickers…

I doubt anyone reads these search term posts – they’re just really amusing to me to write. On to your search terms:

“drinking beer accelrates male baldness” – Dear God, is that true?! Explains a few things, though.

“indian casting couch hardcore” – Excuse me, what? Did a search engine really bring you here? And this person abandoned their search and clicked on my blog! Horny to hungry that fast.

“olive oil lube” – Is this the same guy as above?

“bell’s oberon mini keg directions” – (1) Open, (2) Consume, (3) Recycle.

“bell’s oberon ale mini-keg trouble shooting” – See above.

“my lager is pale” – My appetite is whetted

“where can i get large 55 gal metal drums” – I think you mean “where can I get CLEAN NON-TOXIC AND/OR FOOD-GRADE large 55 gal metal drums.” Be safe.

“what can you put on pecan wood to stop it from creating smut on the chicken you cook?” – I got all of that except “smut”. What the hell are you talking about? I like smut, but on Cinemax after 11pm, maybe with some BBQ & beer. Smut on chicken sounds weird, inedible, and illegal.

“what pork rib resembles a chicken leg” – A mutant one?

“abandon bbq pits” – Now I’m a little sad… I need to be cheered up.

“crying ku fan” – ha ha

“todd reesing grass in helmet failure” – bwahahaha

“awful bbq food” – I direct you to this post, my friend.

“what to wear booze cruise” – Great question. It all depends. Are you a member of the Minnesota Vikings, or some random guy from the Midwest on your honeymoon? Is your boat leaving an Arab country, or Jamaica? Lots of variables here.

“what part of the cow does fajita come” – Flank steak is common, but I’m sure many cuts are suitable. I’ve heard beef tongue makes amazing tacos and fajitas. I just can’t convince anyone in my house to eat it if I make it.

“big flats beer” – One of my favorite blog entries.

“jesus smoking ring joke” – I haven’t heard that one. Now I’m curious… may have to do my own Google search.

“simpsons bbq kiss the cook” – Thanks, but I’m married.

Don’t think I’m mocking my random readership. I genuinely enjoy learning how every sub-literate pervert finds this site.

“I hate losing more than I love winning, and there’s a difference.”

– Billy Beane (from Moneyball, the movie)

When I started this blog, my goal was to narrate my journey from incompetent to proficient, not to create a How To guide for BBQ. Keep that in mind as you read this post. It’s about Failure with a capital F.

If you ever want to win a BBQ competition, this is a How Not To Guide.

I entered the Third Annual Backyard BBQ Bash, held yesterday in Arnold, MO. The categories were chicken, ribs, and mystery meat. With all proceeds going to the Wounded Warrior Project, you could also give away samples for $1 suggested donations. So I decided to make some stuffed mushrooms and give those away.

Chicken was due at 3:30, mystery meat at 4:15, and ribs at 5:00. I rolled in at 8:30 and discovered that the mystery meat was beef tri-tip.

People would be by for samples after 11am, so I got cracking on my stuffed mushrooms. I bought a couple containers of baby portabella mushrooms, then popped out the stems and cleaned the caps, before washing them off in cold water. Each was generously stuffed with a mixture of muffuletta olive salad and feta cheese crumbles.

Stuffed mushrooms

From there, each was wrapped in bacon and placed on one of two water soaked red oak planks on the Weber 22″ kettle.

Plank smoking … so tasty

It took about an hour and a half to fully cook all of the bacon.

High in fat and sodium. Wash down with beer.

I put them out for sampling by the public. Frankly, these were quite delicious. The pork fat basted the mushrooms while the wood smoked the concoction and added a hearty wood flavor, without letting the appetizer burn. Feta cheese, which you don’t normally describe this was, provided a smooth, rich and creamy complement to the salty, earthy mushroom/olive combination.

Get ’em while you can

These things went fast and I made $34 for the Wounded Warriors. Tons of positive feedback from the hungry hordes. This was the highlight of my culinary day.

Let’s get to the parade of failures that comprised my BBQ competition efforts. First, let me be clear that I paced myself on beer. No alcohol-related errors today. Lots of bad timing, poor decisions, lack of garnish, misuse of ingredients, inept performance, lack of planning, etc.

For my chicken sauce, I roasted and peeled six large Anaheim peppers, then de-seeded them. Those were chopped up with half of a white long-sliced onion and sauteed in a skillet with cider vinegar and chicken stock.

Failsauce in early stages

To make a seasoning paste, two garlic bulb’s worth of unpeeled cloves and a handful of whole peppercorns were cooked in a non-stick skillet on the grill. I smooshed it up with a pestle and mortar and smeared it over the chicken skin, then put a tablespoon sized pat of salted butter under the chicken skin, next to the meat. The chicken went right on the grill, adjacent to the sauce (which had reduced quite a bit and been re-thinned with more cider vinegar), about 45 minutes before service.

So much promise… will not be fulfilled

Most unfortunately, the chicken’s internal temperature did not rise as I expected. With ten minutes left, I was looking at 140 degree chicken. That’s some Holy Shit territory. USDA says 165 for poultry and I was low on time.

Looks kinda good, but unfortunately isn’t good

To remediate, I moved the chicken thighs closer to the fire, pulled the sauce, and put a lid on the grill. Eventually the largest thighs got up to 158, and a few of the small ones were at 165. I couldn’t tell if the temps were false positives because they were so close to the fire – the thermometer spiked to 180 in some instances.

Meanwhile, the sauce had thickened horribly. I wanted those distinct flavors, so I portioned it out and tucked it under the thigh skins.

So I served the smallest six of the eight, thinking those would be done for sure. I didn’t garnish at all, which apparently was a huge disadvantage. Dumb dumb dumb.

Don’t eat this. Ever.

I tried my last two thighs. Blah. When you eat meat and think, “Yeah, I think this is done… I think“, it’s probably a terrible sign. In fact, two of the six judges DQed my chicken, presumably due to under-doneness. I didn’t think the flavors were very good, the sauce had very little zest and added nothing. Horrific effort. I felt a little down after this one.

Next in the sequence of shameful BBQ was my tri-tip. I should have done something creative. I should have tried a new recipe. I should have used flippin’ Google on my iPhone to figure out how to do something distinct and interesting. I didn’t. Due to my chicken dejection, I didn’t think to take many pics of this tri-tip fiasco.

Instead, I went simple. Seasoned salt, garlic powder, a little cayenne pepper on the meat side and I tossed it on the grill with some apple wood smoke, fat side up to baste. Tick tock, tick tock…. 30 minutes to go and I was looking at 85 degree meat. W.T.F.

Drastic measures were taken. I carved the fat, then dropped the meat into a foil wrap of Sweet Baby Rays, liquid Parkay, and some honey. This went over semi-direct heat with the thermometer probe inserted.

Poor cow. Never had a chance.

With 7 minutes left, it hit 135 degrees. I pulled to give it a chance to rest.

Doesn’t look that horrible.

I sliced it up, giving six fairly large pieces to the judges. No garnish once again, seeing as how I am an inexperienced jackass. Some of the sauce/juice was liberally sprinkled on the meat in the service box.

Although this was just another step in my journey towards serious public shaming, I have to say I really enjoyed this meat. It was juicy, tasty, tender, succulent. No smoke lines, a tad short of medium. While this wasn’t ideal, I felt a little lifted since I had saved a disaster… or so I thought.

On to my ribs! Surely I could turn in some serviceable ribs, right? I worked hard on the ribs.

Three baby back slabs from Sam’s were met with a rub of brown sugar, paprika, seasoned salt, cayenne pepper, onion powder. The first of the three out of the pack gave me no problems with respect to the concave rib membrane – it came right off. The next two were shredded… I could not get the membrane off cleanly. Perhaps a sign of problems to come.

They went on the Big Blue smoker with a heapin’ helpin’ of hickory wood chunks.

Surely you can’t ruin all three meats, can you?!

Hours later, I checked on my ribs, which had been put on concave side down.

Problems

Uh oh. We have some serious charring on the underside of the ribs. I had been spritzing them with a mist mop of beer, cider vinegar, juice, and a dash of Frank’s hot sauce. Still, the bottom didn’t get much liquid and apparently burnt a little bit.

The smoker performed well, by the way. I had problems at the pork steak competition with it, but nothing like that today. With minimal interference from me but for some fiddling with the ball valve baffles at the base of the smoker, I kept a temperature between 195 and 225.

After four hours of smoking, a dozen or so coals were added to the fire and the ribs were wrapped in a foil full of liquid Parkay butter, honey, and some of the rib rub. Each was returned to the smoker.

A little char. Probably too much char.

After two and a half hours in foil, the ribs were unwrapped. I could tell that I had some problems. It looked like I had over-tenderized the ribs. In trying to pick up a rack with two tongs, some of the rib bones began to separate themselves from the meat. Crap.

I let the ribs rest on the cutting board for about 10 minutes before carving into six rib portions. I was hoping that the meat might firm up a little.

From a tenderness point of view, they were really good. I didn’t see much of a smoke ring, which disappointed me. Since I don’t typically sauce my ribs, I rely on the flavors from the rub and the moisture/stickiness from the sugar of the rub interacting with the mop and foil wrap. The ribs had a strong smoky, paprika flavor and held their own as tender without completely falling off the bone. I wanted some bite and got it, but only after they rested for a little while.

Going back to my samples, I gave out Rib in a Cup to the hungry public.

Rib in a Cup

Feedback from the commoners of Arnold, who I can presume have no formal BBQ judging training, was generally positive. All of my ribs were eaten, and a few people stopped to tell me that they were their favorites amongst all competitors. A judge’s wife even told me that they were her favorite!

My kids loved them, which is really important to me. I don’t get a trophy for that, but it makes me happy.

So… the results. The awards came and went and I left empty-handed. No shock. A little disappointing, but no shock. My kids were really dejected for me. They are somewhat disillusioned with regard to my BBQ skills, but I appreciate it. It’s important to think your father knows what he is doing.

Then I got the master list with all of the scores. Where was Simpson BBQ? Dead last. Last. Worst team of 25 competitors. Last place chicken, second to last place tri tip, and fourth to last place ribs. Complete annihilation and failure. I can’t deny that I felt pretty shitty at this point. Luckily, I had been drinking beers since noon and stepped up beer consumption after the rib turn in time.

Scott, who runs the Grillin’ Fools website and ran this event, seemed to genuinely feel bad for me. He said he needed to work with me on my technique… a few times. He asked if I would write up my Backyard BBQ Bash experience for the blog. Well, of course. This is a learning experience and I can’t hide from my failure. My complete failure.

(Scott, by the way, deserves a ton of credit. This event raised over $3K for the Wounded Warrior Project, and then every winner who earned cash donated it back to the charity. They have to have cleared $4K. Awesome.)

A lot of things went through my PBR-filled head when I read the results. Give up. End the blog. Delete the blog. Pick a new hobby. You suck. Generally not a pleasant feeling.

Then I realized that, had I come back in time from Sunday afternoon (now) to Saturday morning at 6:00am when I got up and said “You are going to have a ton of fun today and meet some really awesome people and raise money for a great charity, but… you are going to finish in last place overall and none of your food will be any good (in the eyes of the judges),” I would probably still have come to the event. I was sandwiched between a team I have competed against at Schlafly (really nice people) and some great guys who chugged Jameson and smoked cigars all day while trying to ignore Mizzou’s thrashing at the hands of South Carolina. What a total blast I had with these neighbors.

Plus, I can use this failure. Every great comedian has bombed. Yesterday I bombed. You can either stay on the mat or pick yourself up, and I choose to pick myself up. I know what I did wrong and I am going to improve. This is a huge motivator for me, and it’s a great teaching moment for my kids. Everyone loses and you don’t always win. It’s part of competing in anything. Someone has to be last, and it was my turn.

In the end, and I apologize for being so verbose, this competition was about doing a lot of things wrong and being humbled for it. Work harder, practice more, dig deeper. Next year I am going to kick ass at this competition. I will never finish last again at a BBQ competition. I am not quitting my amazing, heart-unhealthy hobby. I am going to use this experience as a push for success in the future. Hugely disappointing and humiliating and dejecting, but I had a ton of fun and this is not going to hold me down.

One of my favorite blogs is Popehat. I check it daily, if not more often. The authors provide rather brilliant snarky insight on topics I find highly relevant, such as first amendment rights, frivolous lawsuits, bumptious legal threats, effluvia, and general asshattery.

Amongst the finer features of Popehat is the semi-regular Road to Popehat series, where the authors detail the absurd search terms that bring people to the site. Rather than try to mask my copying of their theme, why not simply replicate it as a genuine homage?

I present the Finding Simpson BBQ. These horrific search terms genuinely brought people to my humble blog.

“fish smell bottom of BBQ” – Unless you have been cooking fish sans plank, you have a serious problem with your grill

“a long time ago we’re back in history where all we had to drink was nothing but cup of tea” – Pre-beer technology? Horrible thought.

“what porter to drink with brisket” – I like the way this guy thinks.

“simpsons triva night kansas city” – I would make the 3.25 hour drive for this event.

“why should i hate ku” – I think the real question is why should anyone NOT hate KU?

“cookingwithhickorywood” – Typingwithnospaces..butyeshickoryisawesomeforcookingmeat.

“scammers & scum” – This makes me smile inside.

“ustro trademark scam” – again, this makes me smile.

“where to get pork ribs in dc” – No idea. Ask my brother.

“ku sucks” – True.

“ku suks” – Uh, true?

“can you smoke venison ribs” – Yes, and I aim to do so soon!

“what does lawyer invoices look like” – Complex, vague, and expensive.

“honey nut ichiros” – Mr. Suzuki… General Mills is on Line 1 with a marketing opportunity.

“خوخ شجرة” – Uh…..

“Beer” – YES!

“parboiled pork ribs” – I’M SORRY, BBQ WORLD!

“simmsop bbq” – Nope.

“simpson bqq” – Not quite.

“simpsons bbq” – Close.

“simpson bbq” – That’s it. Good work, Mom.

Apologies to Ken & Patrick. Imitation is the greatest form of flattery.