Franklin Barbecue: A Meat Smoking Manifesto by Aaron Franklin and Jordan Mackay

4 Stars

 

DEAR VEGANS – PLEASE BACK AWAY FROM THIS REVIEW. I PROMISE YOU THERE IS NOTHING FOR YOU TO SEE HERE.

If you know nothing about/are a beginner at cooking on a smoker, Franklin Barbecue: A Meat Smoking Manifesto is the cookbook for you. My husband was kind enough to volunteer his services in order to make this a legit review, but like I do with most everything else in my life, I’m going to take his contributions and make a complete mockery out of them. Ready? Me too!

First step, if you don’t enjoy the process of outdoor cooking (bees? skeeters? ugh. pass.) you will need to find yourself a servant boy husband who is willing to tend to his meat all day. That shouldn’t be hard to do, right? Ha! I’m hilarious. Here’s a picture of my husband tending the grill . . .



I don’t know who those bitches are in the background, but they better get the f*&^ out of my yard!

Once you’ve found your sucker ahem, I mean soulmate, have them go rustle up a nice big slab of meat for cooking . . .



I keed, I keed. I would never murder Booker T. Django, on the other hand? Perhaps. However, for this review we’re using a hunk of pork butt . . .



Hold on tight, those suckers are slippery! Once you’ve caught your pig, you’ll need to slaughter it . . .

[IMAGE DELETED DUE TO ITS EXTREME GRAPHIC NATURE]

The next step is seasoning the meat to your liking (FYI – I have zero originality so I have totally stolen and modified Paula Deen’s recipe for rub, which contains the same ingredients this book will tell you about - my husband cheats and uses this - he also likes to slather the whole thing in mustard first) until you get a little something like this . . .



Once all that is done it's time for the boring stuff actual cooking. The husband begins with a charcoal stack and then adds his expertly prepared wood (*that’s what she said*) . . .




which results in what is apparently professionally known as “clean smoke” – probably since it’s so clear you can’t even see it (aren’t I a genius????) . . .



You then let that little piggy who went wee wee wee all the way home cook for infinity until the handy-dandy meat thermometer says it’s done, while continually checking on/tending to the needs of the smoker (this is the part where you noobs realize you need to buy the book in order to make sure you don’t f*&^ everything up). Note: If your pig can still do this . . .



it needs to cook longer.

At the end of infinity the day, you should end up with something that looks a little like this . . .




That will satisfy not only your gluttonous teenager, but also the pickiest of child, and which will obtain a reaction from your wife something kinda along these lines . . .



It’s up to personal taste whether you want your pulled pork sammiches Southern style with a big ol’ dollop of coleslaw, or topped with a little bbq sauce . . .



No matter what, if you did it right (or married the right fella) it should be delicious and have you retrieving your “Thanksgiving Pants” before you sit down to eat. Bon appétit!



Endless thanks to the hubs for all of the hard labor he put forth in order for me to post this review. Luckily I get paid zeroes of dollars for reviewing so I’m totally willing to split the profits 50/50 with him ; )

ARC provided by Blogging for Books in exchange for an honest review.