Barbeque Sauces Come in Many Styles

SASSY SAUCE:
Barbecue Sauces Come in Many Style

with a recipe for Basic Barbeque Sauce

The French may have their bordelaise, hollandaise, and demi-glace, but they don’t have barbecue sauce. “French sauces are great but not they’re not much fun,” says Steven Raichlen, whose decidedly fun Beer-Can Chicken and 74 Other Offbeat Recipes for the Grill includes barbecue sauce recipes that use ingredients like black cherry soda, prune juice, and Belgian beer.

Barbecue sauce should not be confused with barbecue, the method of long slow cooking over low, indirect heat. With this type of cooking, sauce, if any, is added at the table, though many barbecue purists shun sauce entirely. Barbecue sauce is meant for foods that are grilled directly over heat, often high heat, for a relatively short period of time.

As with barbecue cookery, barbecue sauces have regional characteristics. Kansas City-style sauce is the most common nationwide. It has a tomato or ketchup base with pronounced sweet, sour and smoky elements. Barbecue sauce in nearby St. Louis also has a tomato foundation but without the smoke (which is normally from bottled liquid smoke). North Carolina’s barbecue sauce, traditionally put on that state’s beloved pulled pork shoulder at the table, is vinegar-based—clear in Eastern North Carolina and tomato red in the West.

Mustard is the key ingredient in the sauces of Georgia, South Carolina and Mississippi. White barbecue sauce featuring mayonnaise, cider vinegar and black pepper is big in Alabama, where people have it with chicken. In Texas, beer and chilies form the basis of a rather watery sauce. In the Southwest, from New Mexico to California, tomato salsa or pico de gallo qualify as barbecue sauces, since that’s how they’re often used. And there are scores of other ethnic sauces for grilled foods, including mojo, a blend of lime juice, cumin and garlic favored in Miami’s Latin community.

I tasted eleven brands of barbecue sauce along with a few homemade versions on chicken breasts and slabs of pork spareribs. Those listed as “Original” usually have a hotter version. My two favorites were Stubb’s Original and Bog Bottom. Stubb’s, from Stubb’s Bar-B-Q Restaurant in Austin, Texas, was assertive without being overbearing and had an almost perfect balance of sweet, smoky and spicy flavors. Bog Bottom, made in Wilmington, NC by Wagner Gourmet Foods had a meaty quality, a smooth rich texture and a tangy finish.

Though a step down from the top two, I also liked Mad Dog Ultra Hot, from that well-known barbecue capital Dedham, Mass. It was one of the hottest brands I tried, though I found the heat manageable. It was also pleasantly sweet with a nice molasses note. Next came Bull’s-Eye Original, made in Garland, Texas. It had the same elements as Stubb’s but was a bit too heavy handed with smoke, and it had a spice profile that reminded me of Worcestershire. Roadhouse, made in Des Plaines, Ill, was zesty with a chunky texture, a fruity sweetness, and a whiff of what seemed like mesquite.

Except for its strong molasses undertone, I thought KC Masterpiece had a pretty mainstream taste, more suburban than country. Two Buddies Macho Mesquite, produced in Southern California, looked and tasted more like a salsa than barbecue sauce. Though it had quality ingredients, American Spoon Foods sweet and fruity Cherry BBQ Grilling Sauce was far too genteel. Scott’s, a classic North Carolina vinegar-based sauce, was just too thin to coat properly. Try it as a mop or basting sauce during cooking instead of as a finishing condiment. A surfeit of clove, allspice and hot pepper tilted Vernon’s Jamaican Jerk Sauce way out of balance. On the other hand, Texas Best Mesquite Recipe was so tame, it tasted more of Ohio (where it is made) than the Lone Star state.

My first homemade sauce was too tomatoey and didn’t have the depth of flavor of the best bottled sauces, though it might have had I cooked it four hours, which is what Jack McDavid, former co-host of the Food Network’s Grillin’ and Chillin’ does at his Down Home Diner in Philadelphia. My results improved considerably when I followed Raichlen’s recipe for basic barbecue sauce (below), though it still didn’t have the snap and tang of Stubb’s or Bog Bottom.

But if you’re determined to make your own, start with ketchup (which is what Raichlen does) because it already has the requisite sweet, sour, tomato and spice components. Then you can add sweetness with molasses, brown sugar, maple syrup or honey. A sour balance can come from vinegar (cider vinegar is a favorite), lemon or other citrus juices. Other possible seasonings include mustard, Worcestershire sauce, liquid smoke, garlic, onion, black pepper and hot pepper such as ground cayenne or hot pepper sauce like Tabasco. Red wine, port, bourbon (especially with maple syrup), and rum can add plenty of flavor too. If you add beer, use no more than a half cup and reduce it somewhat to minimize the bitterness from hops.

If you’re looking for an Asian bent, try ginger, hoisin sauce, soy sauce, rice wine or sherry and five spice powder. Ground cumin, cilantro, and lime or other tropical juices will give you a Latin feel. Raichlen suggests adding a ringer ingredient for “brag power.” It can be anything from iced tea to cranberry juice to vanilla. Down Home uses coffee and cinnamon. Consistency is important-- slightly thinner than ketchup works best. If you go thicker, your sauce will hang heavy on the meat. A thinner version will just slide off.

Since barbecue sauce almost always has some kind of sugar, putting it on the meat too early will burn the exterior before the inside is done. Moderate caramelization is delicious, though. If you’re cooking at high heat, slather the sauce on five to ten minutes before the food will be done. Put it on sooner if you’re working at lower heat. And don’t let the sauce do all the work—you should also season the meat well with a spice rub or a liberal coating of salt and pepper. Another possibility, advises Chris Chickering, corporate chef of American Spoon Foods, is to thin out a few tablespoons of sauce with wine and oil and brush this basting or mopping sauce on the meat as it cooks.

Choosing a wine to go with the sweet, sour, smoky and hot pepper flavors of barbecue sauces is a challenge. The exuberant fruit in Zinfandel makes it a good choice, as long as alcohol levels (or the heat of the sauce) are kept in check. Ditto for Australian Shiraz. Shiraz and Rhone Syrahs have a peppery and smoked meat quality that works nicely with barbecued foods. I also liked Petite Sirah, a Rioja Riserva, and Chianti Classico. Sometimes you can go with a white, perhaps an off-dry Chenin Blanc or Riesling (especially German Rieslings because their higher acidity refreshes the palate). You could also try an extra dry (slightly sweet) Champagne, just to show the French that there are no hard feelings.

Basic Barbecue Sauce
(adapted from How to Grill by Steven Raichlen)

2 cups ketchup
Ľ cup cider vinegar
Ľ cup Worcestershire
Ľ cup firmly packed brown sugar
2 tablespoons molasses
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
11/2 tablespoons Tabasco
1 tablespoon chili powder
2 teaspoons liquid smoke
˝ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce heat to medium and simmer 10 to 15 minutes or until sauce is dark, thick, and richly flavored. Adjust sweetness, sourness and hot pepper to taste.

How to mail order great barbecue sauce

This article first appeared in the Wine Spectator on June 30, 2003.