Welcome to Second Ferment! Wine pairs well with life ... and food, travel, people, work and play. Grab a glass and join me as I explore the wine scene in Ottawa, Canada, and beyond. Love hearing from my readers, so please leave a comment. Cheers! - Bethany

Tuesday, October 12, 2010


I've been the rib cooker 'round the house for a few years now. Boiled 'em, then roasted them in the oven, slathered with hickory-smoked sauce until they were juicy and dee-yummy. Tonight, my reign came to an end, and a new Rib Master stepped up to the plate.

Since Hubby's the one at home now ("What do you do all day? I'm sorry ...") he's been spoiling me with hot, delicious dinners laid out when I get in from work. I have a momentary pang of guilt for not being home earlier to cook (damn you, OC Transpo) but that gives way to pure rapture as I inhale all the wonderful aromas coming from the kitchen.

Tonight he did ribs. And not at all the way I do them. Better.

First of all, you should never, never, never - and I mean NEVER - boil ribs, according to the BBQ Guru. So I've been doing it wrong all this time? Pretty tasty mistake, if you ask me ... Next, give them a nice, long bath in a briny mixture of water, salt and sugar for about an hour. Take them out, towel them off and rub them down with seasoning before they nap for a few hours.

Hours? Wait, I'm usually looking at two hours, tops, for MY ribs. Now we're gettin' fancy ...

After a rest in the fridge, the ribs are ready for showtime. Slather them in your fave sauce (Camp 31 is our go-to sauce around here. Canadian Club Hickory Bold is a close second.) Wrap in foil, and slow cook them at 250 degrees for minimum two hours. The longer they cook, the more fall-off-the-bone the meat becomes. GOOD TIMES. All we needed was a few big, buttery chunks of cornbread and a fat, juicy shiraz. Lacking both, we settled for a few beers and just let the ribs work their magic. After a long weekend of turkey, a good pile o' pork sure hits the spot.

Coming home never tasted so good.

1 comment:

  1. We dine at Camp 31 in Paris quite often. More than we probably should to be honest; but we're well stocked with their sauce. Delicious all around.


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