Lenny Designated As " Pit Master"

The Success of A Memorial Day BBQ

 Lenny's Memorial Day Pig Roast is now a notch on the New York advocate's suspenders.  That he wears to hold up his well worn jeans as he  tended to the star of the extravaganza. The well rounded pig that did it's dance on the rotating spit that held it.  It has been reported that the fine porker held his own as it slept over the glowing coals of the BBQ pit.  Slowly going along with the turns and twists of the rod that helps the pig cook to it's full and intended potential. Preparing to be dressed in BBQ sauce sent over by "Chef "Thomas Joseph,  that had to be packed in several 5 gal containers.  Chef Tom unfortunately was not able to attend due to un foreseen commitments. His brother Joe, being the only one authorized to deliver the viscous combination of secret condiments and ingredients.

Games, Fun and Serious Competition

It is not necessary to add at this point of the report. That all pertinent Joes were present and accounted for.  There was his brother Joe and his dad Joe. Who, along with his newly constructed " Corn Hole " equipment.  Looking snazzy, painted in colors replicating those of UNC.  Assorted cousins and friends named Joe, also joined  in the long awaited jamboree.  That only comes once a year.  Every other pig roast being anti-climactic.  Although the anticipated "Corn Hole" competition would be the high point of the day.  Other exercises in competitive events would also be held. Including "bocci" and volley ball. 

Lenny Designated As " Pit Master"

The ceremony of designating Lenny the lawyer as,  "Lenny the Pit Master ", took place early in the day in an effort to get it out of the way. The award and designation testified to by the Silver Fox of " Big Al Talks Big BBQ" and 3 Bros. BBQ, in the form of a certificate signed by numerous devotees of the art of BBQ.  It was presented to, and accepted by the host and promptly proudly placed over his bar.

The Glory of Roast Pig On A Spit

I have seen many a sight that would entice one to think of the good life. The glowing coals of a bbq pit that react to the drippings of a roasting pig, do that for me. The spitting sound of the fat as it hits the hot coals is a cacophony of sweet things to come. The retort of that wonderful process sometimes imitating that of mini eruption of an active volcano.



The Contribution of Local Police

The day started early and the arrival of guests began in earnest.  Many had made plans to get there by taking part in car pooling. The complaints of the folks that live in the area were adamant when put in a letter addressed to Lenny, "The Pig Roast Host" .This was done in anticipation of a large retinue of cars, pick up trucks, mini vans and  suv's that caused traffic jams the year before. The message was short but less than sweet  "Don't Block Our Driveways".  A declaration that had  the strength of a rational that could not be argued in court.  After all it was bad enough the town had to expend part of their budget for police traffic officers to buy white gloves. The argument being that you can't do your job without proper equipment. White gloves being a necessary tool in controlling traffic in every town and city in the civilized world.

Party Crashers

It is not surprising that the attendees from previous Pig Roasts were there with bells on. Upon hearing that there would be "Corn Holing" contests they brought along those who could challenge other "Corn Hole" contest champions.  There were many faces that were not recognizable to the alumni of the first and subsequent Memorial Day roasts. A factor that really did not phase the host or guests until there were significant losses at the Corn Hole competition to some strangers. With that being noticed,  many of the guests who had a stake in the competition were prompted to inquire of them.  Not only their names, but if they had a bona fide invitation from Lenny.  As well as how he or she, was connected to that fine gracious and extravagant host.  After all the roasting of a hefty porker can come with a hefty butcher bill as well. 

More Joes Than Bargained For

The answers to the inquiries as far as the names were concerned were not surprising.  Eight of 10 answered that their name was Joe.  The remainder claimed the name Josephine, as would be usual for a female. The other one's sexual description could only be described to be in a "gray area".  Who compounded the confusion by answering to the name of, Jo Jo.

Back To Long Island

Visiting Long Island

I have not reported on recent trips to the center of the modern world, New York City.  I have steered away from that area of the state for the time being.  New York State is  truly a place with many attractive  places. One of them is Long Island.  It is truly in a position of advantage in the geography of the state. So very close to the Big Apple. It has the advantage of being ajacent to the cultural soul of so many creative artists. Be it in theater, fashion, the opera and pop music. As well as museums and cultural centers. . 

L.I. Railroad

Most of all the base of  many creative accountants and bankers. Concocting all sorts of money making schemes. A good  reason for being where it all happens. Hundreds of  thousands  of employees enter and depart from the skyscrapers that house institutions of  finance. Along with these comes jobs that service them. Which, the city folk and  Long Islanders fulfill the the need of providing.  The ability to travel into N.Y. City  via auto and rail, as well as moving around town easily  Is as big a plus as you can get.  The suburbs also have the advantage of not being part of the city of N.Y.  Therefore insulating themselves from the noise and unpleasantness of living in the big city. That is as good as it gets. 

I love L.I. and always have. Beaches and green areas of parks that are numerous and spacious. Makes it a place you want to be. Mostly in the summer, but for many all year long. It is understandable, as I have enjoyed it in all seasons. But for me summer time is the best time to be on Long Island. So that is where I have been going  throughout my stays there. Very happily I might add.  I am not interested in taking advantage of what the metropolis has to offer. Even when it comes to food.  Good and excellent food can be found all over Long Island. You have to find the great spots for yourself.  Summer time eating establishments all serve fine agricultural  products from Nassau and Suffolk counties. The seafood is fresh and sweet. Try the wines of the North Folk wineries. Beaches are wide clean and  beautiful.  The surf wild and refreshing. There are miles and miles of them. On the rocky northern shore as well as the fine sandy ones of the south shore. From Coney Island to Montauk Point. A distance of about 100 miles from west to east.  The widest part being about 15 miles. This make the island the largest in the continental U.S.

The swinging and swaying elements have plenty of places to go. To swing and sway anyway they want. Sometimes going a bit to far with the swaying and swinging.  Well why not? Long Island is vacation town in the summer.  Everyone has time to enjoy the short lived and precious warm days. The light after  the darkness of winter.  Initiating with intense sunlight,  the path to your brain through your eyes.  Great stuff, the sun. Greater to some than to others. I am one of those.

My last trip was to take part  in a  monumental  moment in the life of my oldest grand son. That of receiving his first holy communion. A sacrament that must be embraced by all Catholics.  He sported a white suit with white shoes. He was the only one that was dressed in that fashion. All the others dressed handsomely as well.  He looked almost angelic in that suit of pure white.. His demeanor surprised me.  Comfortable  that his suit of white allowed him to stand out amongst the other boys. The sun that day was bright.  Enhancing the brightness of the jacket, blouse, trousers, and shoes of his attire. A special day attended by his brother Joseph and little sister Lillian. His dad and mom. Grand parents, uncle Joe, aunt Lilian and cousins.  Lunch followed the taking of the sacrament. 

A wonderful party followed on Sunday. There were many guests and all ate well. Italian food being prevalent. The eggplant was scrumptious and pasta great. The meat balls were exquisite. Perfectly round,  and of equally sized red spheres. Well almost perfectly round. Roast pork and other culinary delights graced the buffet table as well.

The bread was Italian and crusty.  Many a piece got eaten in combo with the eggplant parmigiana.  Along with all the rest of the food. Except for the pasta. No bread with pasta, is the rule in our homes. Beer was the drink of the  beautifully warm spring like day.  Along with some good wine from the north folk wineries. Long Island is no longer just known  for potatoes.  Easily rivaling the Idaho, potatoes still are grown on L.I. and make up part of the agricultural economy of the area.  With much of the north shore acreage being devoted to vineyards. Making for varied and desired agricultural production.  Long Island ducklings are a famous menu item all over the world.  Raised in Long Island and can only be identified as such by raising them on L.I.  By court order I may add.

Along with tourism, wine production and fishing  Long Island also has a rich history. Indian Reservations and museums reflecting the native American presence and early settlements, are spread across the area.  It  has been the center of the Aeronautical industry. Grumman, Sperry Rand, Fairchild , all involved in making the planes that changed the direction of  WW2.  Later, making their mark as innovators in the aerospace industry.  It is only logical that it would follow pioneers of air travel such as Lindbergh and others. Roosevelt Field being the place of departure for many an adventurous aviator.

Folks who know, will tell you there is no clam or oyster sweeter than those off Long Island.  Lobster is also found in  Long Island Sound, along with other shell food and fish in the surrounding waters.  Montauk Point is at the very end of the island that starts at the beginning of Brooklyn. With two counties of New York City and the independent counties of Nassau and Suffolk. All lined up eastward  dotted by small cities and towns. There you will find fives star restaurants and resorts. You can sit on Gosmans Dock. Famous for it's food and atmosphere of the marina and waters that it sets in.  Have a great fresh seafood right from the boats that dock there to off load their catch.  The fish and lobster so fresh you will want to send them to the principals office. 

There are a number of islands that are close to the main island.  Whales swim in and around them in the  L.I. Sound and whale watching is becoming a popular pass time.  You can charter a fishing boat from one of the many that are docked along the many marinas. You can try your luck with the help of the captains and crew members of the charter fleets.

Shark fishing is especially exciting. Great Whites frequent the waters off the tip of the island. Daring you to catch a trophy fish.  Blue fish schools visit the island in late August through Oct.  The wolf of the sea and renowned predator, is fun and exciting to hook into and bring on board. Catching a 15 lb blue fish can give you a fight you would expect from a much larger fish.  In addition to giving you an exciting time before landing it. It is a  food fish that has few equals in taste and texture. Flounder, fluke and stripped bass are also plentiful. All delicious and enjoyable to eat.

All in all it was a wonderful trip to a state I called home for 50 years. Living in the city and also in the suburb of Nassau county.  Enjoying the east end with it's beaches, restaurants, and farmland.  Finding quiet lounging on Shelter Island located in the middle of Peconic Bay. Where the finest bay scallops are found. Tender sweet nuggets of the calm bay water's bounty.  A trip to Fire Island would always be in the summer's plans. The hot spots of the Hamptons,  always a top priority when hankering for a late night foray on the wild side.

I have since returned to my home in Florida.  It is a bitter sweet return to what we call paradise.  Florida is a great place to live and retire.  I joined the ranks of residents and then retirees, twenty years and 4 years respectively.  It was a place I always wanted to be. The sun being an elixir for my very being.  Living almost on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico, is not like living on the Atlantic  With it's crashing waves and water that gives you a chill even in the hottest days of summer. On the contrary, the Gulf is a placid bath tub and just as warm. The winds of a sudden storm can turn it into very ruffled body of violent peaks and valleys. Almost as you would flip a switch from off to on. Then back again just as quickly.  There is a saying down here,  "that the weather changes more in a day, than it does in a month in most parts of  the country".  

The seafood is not like up north. I guess because of the lack of  fatty oils in the fish. Oysters from the Gulf are not what a Long Islander is used to. Puny in comparison to those of Oyster Bay and not quite as seafood-ish.  If indeed there is such a term. Restaurants are great if you can afford to frequent a four star restaurant. That maintains it's help.  Most times the food is all the same in most places. Just with twists as to what it is called on the menu.  The biggest problem with most restaurants, except for the chains.Who's food production takes very little thinking to prepare. Is that the food is not consistent. The quality changes with the transient habits of the help. Unlike many cosmopolitan northern cities and suburbs, where food service is a career. Not a part time filler of your time, 'till something better comes along. 

Good bread is a notion that is a dream. Except in rare instances that are wide and far between.  In the past few years the super markets have been bringing in bread from out of state. Sometimes even from Toronto.  It fills the need.  It is a bit more expensive, but it is a welcome respite from supermarket "in house" baked bread. That changes in it's texture after just a few hours. Turning into a porous empty loaf of air that tastes like cotton. Then not resembling bread at all. You learn to live with it and it keeps your waist line down.

The idea of being able to walk around with as few clothes on as possible. Is something you can certainly get used to. It  does not however, beat the joy of seeing your grandchildren any time you want to. Or, of feeling the security of having your children near you.  Especially when they show you love and forgive your past transgressions. The women they married also show me a great measure of love and let me know that I am always welcome. Showing disappointment when I tell them my scheduled departure date.  With the passage of time I know I will not get to see them as often in the year as I am able to now.  That is just the way it is.  It is the price you pay for making a decision to leave many years ago.  A choice I made myself and do not regret.  Well at least not always. As it is in other places, it is here. There are times of sorrow and turpitude.  Times when you feel lonely and times when you are sad. There are also times when you are glad you are living in the Sunshine state. Especially when you observe on news casts, the snow and cold that is part of living up north. Health issues seem to grow and proliferate your other wise simple well worn regimen. Doctors office visits always taking precedent over all other "things".

It is quite common for me to think of getting up north again as soon as I get home. Or, for that matter as soon as when I get on the plane and begin my trip back to the sunshine state. So until I can return, I will think of my family and friends and my beautiful grand children. Who I will miss more and more with the passing of each minute. Until I make my way back again to enjoy everything that is Long Island.

Poodle Hunts Down Wild Boar

 Getting Your Own Pig
 Up to now we have been tellin' all you folks about cookin' pig.  We have been smokin' it and eating it. Sometimes just doing it by putting it on a spit and roasting it. So as you can pull at it. As it cooks from the outside in. Or burying it and stuffin' it with hot rocks then covering it with banana leaves. That process takes a might to long so it ain't one of our favorites.  " Cause you have to get someone to volunteer to dig the pit. Now we get our pig from a local farmer. Who has been kind enough all these years to contribute one or two each time we have a church event. I can tell what he has been up too by the size of his donation.  We have raised a bit of cash each time by doin' what we do best.  When it comes to cookin' or smokin' those farm fattened animals. This year it started off a bit different when it comes to procuring our bbq favorite.

Farm Pigs Can Go Back To Wild Ways

Lots of folks may or may not know, that a pig has a tendency of reverting back to the wild when it gets a chance to do so. I have heard tell that it will not take long before it takes on the appearance and habits of a wild boar. It will take about a month for the hair to get similar to that of one living in the wild outdoors. The identifying word boar, in the case of these animals denotes either male or female. Whether you agree with this or not, really does not matter. Fact is that a domestic pig soon falls into the feral classification for all intensive purposes. We know that there are some that have been spotted rootin" around in a nearby wood.

Do It The Manly Way

The logical conclusion of all that are involved with the providing of good bbq is, to catch a pig.  That way we can claim that we did it the manly way.  This conclusion turns out to be not logical at all.  We also find out catching a feral pig is not as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. Or, catching a rat in an empty ten by ten foot barn. Dogs are usually used for this type of hunt. There are dogs that are trained to go after boar and chase them.  Some to catch em and hold on to 'em. Until their human counter parts can get them under control. Either by killing the cornered boar on the spot or hog tying their legs. Then bringing them home to butcher.  Needless to say, we do not have one of these dogs.

Get That Porker

So here we be standing across from the town drug store. Drinking coffee, and having fried egg, bacon and cheese sandwiches on a roll at Julio's Chinese Breakfast Nook.  Which by the way makes the best Bok Choy and grits on this here planet.  We start out with a crowd of about ten excited and animated suedo hunters. Which then thins out to five as the dawn hours proceed into daylight.  With the coffee drunk and the sandwiches eaten'. Then the desertions started.  After being contacted by cell phone and wives reminded them of their " honey do chores" back at the house.

Getting Ready

We take stock of what we have to complete the mission.  We have the vehicles that would seem appropriate.  You know, the typical four wheel drive kind and a dirt bike motorcycle previously used to navigate the mud at the Wood Stock festival. We are going to use that in place of a horse.  Each one of us manly type honchos,  has a hand gun strapped on to his leg.  Rope and some assorted cutlery equipment. Just in case we have to gut and butcher it on the spot.  A paper sack with a second delicious and nutrient rich fried egg sandwich for the days hunt.  Just in case we got  hungry.  Along with John Sansabelt's  5 year old  black miniature poodle. Who we were all told was a natural hunting dog.  That's true, being it is adept at hunting dog bones under the sofa. Or retrieving ducks from a pond.  Catching pigs, well  I think that is way out of a minature poodles league. The, I said, "what the heck,  he is the only dog we have.

Some Know But Won't Go

Upon arriving at the location we knew from eye witness testimony of  Mr. Vincent the town barber. Who's claim to fame included still knowing how to give a shave with a straight edge razor.  Hear tell by his son Josh Vincent. He was a fierce hunter of boar in his native Italy.  An impression given to him by numerous stories of his hunts, via his daddy's accounts. Unfortunately it was Saturday and the busiest day of the week in his shop.  Mr. Vincent was left behind to tend to long and straggly hair of the youth of the town. After all the next day was "Sunday go to meeting" day. 
What A Surprise Not having the benefit of the most experienced boar hunter in the group, we were off.  Soon after we were observing the wild razor backs. Included the group was what looked like a farm raised pig.  Using their snouts to dig up what ever it was they were anxious to uncover out of the ground.  It was time to catch us a pig and we all stood around doing absolutely nothing except day dreaming.  Until the black poodle jumped out of one of our rigs and started running and yapping.
Poodle In Action  Off we went after him. The dog seemed to have absolutely no fear. Can you believe it.  I could not.  Now I thought that particular breed had a penchant for ducks and water. Not razor backs with tusks. I figured he was tired of  his ears being pulled by John's grand kids. He was angry and decided it was time to get even with anyone or anything. The boar on the run looked kind of like John's grandson, Randall. I think it was the straight stick like hair similar to that sticking up from the pigs neck and down it's back.  I heard the dirt bike we were counting on using to run the pigs down . Trouble is that we really were not sure what to do when we did.  Kind of like a dog chasing a fire truck and not knowing what to do when he caught up with it.
Motorcycle Was No Help  The dog kept running cutting one out of the group and chasing it down to the retention pond.  The area sat on the edge of the flat scrub cluttered area bordering the woods. It was a sight to see.  Up came the bike with the rider standing on the pegs jutting out the side of the frame. Hitting a deep hidden gully, young Jeffrey Combs, the rider, took a dive over the handle bars,  His hands out in front of him to stop his fall wound up landing equally in two fresh cow pies. His face except for his nose, barely missing a large rock pointing like an arrow directly to his left nostril. Jeff Combs ended up looking like Jack Nickelson in that movie Chinatown. Sporting a bandage on his split nose for a month. Hoping that it would heal closed with out a scar that everyone was sure to point to. Bound to telling a story that would change every time it was told. 'Till  the scar morphed into a symbol of ridicule, instead a badge of courage. Well it didn't heal without a scar.  It was only a matter of time they did make it something  that he got into plenty a scrap about.  Making the hurt more than physical. The pain of  the injury lasting long after the wound had closed.

The Poodle Closes The Deal

By this time the poodle had sunk it's teeth into the corkscrew tail of the bristling animal. Pulling and circling to the right and then back to the left when the snout got too close to it's muzzle. That dog's nose was boiling with  bubbling snot as it maneuvered that boar any which way it wanted. Dragging the ugly looking black mass backwards. As it shook it's head as if those teeth were clamped onto a stuffed toy it refused to give up.  When you tried to pull it away. It was a sight to behold. One that I was surprised to see and one hard to tell about with out having to exclaim that every word was true.  This little dog was convinced he was as big as Rottweiler.  It was finally relieved from duty by yours truly who grabbed that squealer by the rear legs and tied up that hog neat as a postal package. The dog strutted back to the 4 wheel drive in a jaunty arrogant high stepping trot.  His bobbed tail standing stiff in the air. While switching back and forth like a metronome. Jumping in the front seat like a captain behind the wheel of a motor boat. His new focus was now to leave the hunt.  The poodle got his self respect and we got ourselves a pig.

The name of that courageous and willy poodle is. No not Pierre,  just Pete..

Anticipating Lenny's Memorial Day Pig Roast

Big Pig... and Big Laughs for All

Memorial day is coming down the line and there will be another grand pig roasting on Long Island. Brought to you by the modern, " Clarence Darrow " of the N.Y.  Bar Association. Lenny,  The King of  Pig Roasts". It will be, as I heard tell. "An event to be permanently etched, in the mental card catalog of all who attend ".  When good times and great pig beg to be remembered.  There will be a pig roast of a magnitude that will rival the bacchanals of " ancient Rome ". Minus of course, salacious behavior.  The only over indulgences allowed will be the stuffing of every pie hole with roasted porker. Made possible by roasting his  "biggest pig on a spit", up to this time. The other would be lots of smiles and belly laughs.  I have further been assured  that if it is a Sunday, pasta will be available as well for the older first generation Americans of Italian decent. Seeing that it ain't Sunday with out pasta. 

The Pit Will Be Huge

The digging has already begun

Now I don't want to tell y'all that a bull dozer will be employed to dig the pit.  I will just go as far to say that credible information has been supplied to me. That at least three cousins named Joe and one brother in law named Greg will be using three garden spades and a pick  Or, at least one swipe with a "bob cat" back hoe if their backs give out before the " big dig". The local store that furnishes and sells BBQ equipment has been asked to set aside a large supply of 20lb bags of Kingsford briquets. In total,  it will have to be delivered in a large pick up truck.

Many Joes will attend
The usual suspects will be attending. Including at least, but not less than 6 relatives named Joe. There will be one less this year as he has passed away since the last big bash. Holding his own big bbq in the sky with all the rest of the Joes that had come and gone from the family as the century wore on. Lenny's dad, named Joe, is now  busy on the beaches of S.C. constructing a super fantastic premium  "corn hole" game set up. With sacks fabricated of the finest hop sack material. Containing dried hybrid corn and beans. Grown and procured for the project by Orville Rickenbacker. As well as beans supplied by  Jack of  Jack and The Bean Stalk fame. Expertly constructed and strikingly painted in North Carolina State University Colors and" Tar Heel " decals. Celebrating the newest attendee of that fine academic institution. Joe Jr. and Maria's daughter, Brittney. Grandpa Joe's pride and joy. Along with all other grand children of the clan.

Competition of Corn Holers Will Be Fierce
The corn hole game structure will be the first of it's kind to enter the family's game shed. Along with " Bocci Balls" and other athletic equipment. Challenging the competitive nature of all who attend the "roast of Memorial Day pig roasts". Oh yeah, it will be a heck of a time. The idea of being involved in this game of unique skill, intense focus and well honed abilities. Is titillating beyond description. Being pitted against the premium "corn holers" of Long Island is an opportunity anyone worth their stalks would relish. Kernels of satisfaction will certainly emerge as each and every bag clears the openings. Until the game is won by one team or the other and the pops of high fives fill the air. Oh baby, pass the butter.

Invited
I being a family member of the highest order. Son of a Joe, father and grandfather of a Joe. Along with sons that carry the middle name of Joe. As well as a son having the middle initial J, representing the name Joe. Had the esteemed honor of being invited to what has become the opening day of the summer season on Long Island N.Y.  Referred to in close circles as "Lenny's BBQ". Unfortunately I was not able to give a positive or negative R.S.V.P.  The response can be described as being, " in the gray area".

Double Smoked B.L.T.

 Bringing Home The Bacon

Bringing home the bacon.  That can mean anything from, a Senator bringing home to his state what ever pork he can weasel out of the legislative barrel.  Or, bringing home a pay check.  To me, it translates to “double smoked bacon”. So different from the usual idea of what bacon is.  This is what bacon is supposed to be. Not those puny thin strips of ribbon you get at the local market.  Double smoked bacon is man sized strips of thick slices of bacon that is smoked and then smoked again.  Once you have sunk your choppers, real or store bought,  into a slab of heaven. You will know why those crunched up curly edged over cooked  pieces of fat and a sliver of meat just won’t do.  Put yourself together a  double smoked B.L.T. and you will find yourself wanting it all the time.  The double smoking and thickness of  it.  Transports the red  ripe tomato and crisp lettuce to a place they have never been before.

The slices of tomato seem to smile and  the lettuce jiggles in glee as it is placed on the three part medley.  For you folks from New York, real  Hellmans brand mayo, spread on both sides of the bread of your choice. I like it on some home baked white. toast.   If you are one of those folks from one of those obscure states. Like Illinois and Indiana. Miracle Whip is what you are used to.  As we all know that is not mayo.  I personally don’t  recommend it. Can't lay your hands on home baked bread, try Arnold Bread.  Or Pepperidge Farm.  Once you have had a taste of the good life you may want another.  As a matter of fact I will wager my grandmothers corset you will.  The double smoked bacon brings the traditional B.L.T. over the top.

Fact is regular bacon gets lost in the crowd of crisp lettuce and ripened tomato. Double smoked bacon stands up to the rest of the combination. Like a soldier at attention. Oh yeah , once in a while when I get adventurous. I sneak a hot smoked sausage in between those slices. Kind of gives it a kick that you are used to when it comes to other smoked BBQ items. Like pulled smoked pulled pork, ribs and chicken. Come on, we all know how good that is.  It doesn’t take much to figure out that this is the King of B.L.Ts.  Best of all you can bring it home. That’s what I call “bringing home the bacon”.  Oh how heavenly it is when you get that big hello as you walk through the door.  It’s the hour of power the moment of truth. Complete and total satisfaction knowing you have done what is expected of you.

Ricky Riccardo Sings BBQ.

I LOVE LUCY and Ricky Too

I was a great lover of the  “ I LOVE LUCY “show. As many now are of the re runs that still show today.  I used to love when Ricky her Cuban band leader husband,  sang BBQooooo BBQ aii aay.  I just didn’t get it. Why would he say that all the time in that song.  It was later of course that I found out that the Cubans like other Latin Americans, love pork.  They put in soups and  cook in ovens and grill it. Eat it with rice and fried green bananas. I guess you could sort of compare that to our fried green tomatoes. One particular dish is almost synonymous with Cuba and you can call it a national dish. Le Chon Asada, roast pork.  Now I am sure that Cuba being what you could describe as occupying a hot and humid  geographical  location.  Right there in the middle of the Carribean, only 90 miles from Florida.  They would  be apt to do some out door cooking.  I would bet my first cousins piano on that.  A bbq of sorts.  I have had the pleasure of sampling the cuisine of that island here in the U.S. By the immigrants who have braved the dangerous passage  across to the U.S. mainland.  Now I figure that  since we as Americans fought a conflict in and around 1903.  Called the Spanish  American War.  In which  I am proud to say we kicked the butts of the Spanish  Resulting in a free and autonomous Cuba.  Our own Teddy Roosevelt at the head of his Rough Riders, being  considered  the hero of  the Battle of San Juan Hill.  Also the fact that  Cuba is in close proximity to our wonderful U.S. of A . There has had to be some of our culture that has rubbed off on those  folks. Including some phraseology and colloquialisms. Like the words bar b que.  So I have deduced in my detective like, Sherlock Holmes, sharp as a tack mind.  That Ricky was singing a tribute to the Le chon Asada cooked on an open fire when he was a boy in Cuba. Case solved.  So now when I see him beating on a drum they call a conga drum and a sweatin' and a hollerin and yellin'. Like a hound dog treein' a raccoon. I know why and what he is sayin'.

BBQ Equals Freedom

  "Hungry People Are Not Free"

Truer words never spoken. These words were said by,  Adlai Stevenson . Former Ambassador to the U.N. Also ran for President. Lost to Dwight Eisenhower. Now he was from somewhere in the northern states like Michigan, Minnesota or Illionois.  Yet as he said those words there are some who tell me he started to say.  “If you want to be free, eat more BBQ“.
Now I myself tend to agree with that statement. Did he actually say it? That is the question.  The story goes he got close enough to saying it, to know it was said.  As for me I would certainly feel free if I was next to BBQ. I would feel free to take some and put in my hungry salivating mouth.  Yes, and as I ate it I would exclaim, free again !  Shout it from the roof tops of  the Bronx, Queens and Brooklyn too.  Free again lucky me, free again. Time to have a party now . From the tops of the buildings of lower and mid town Manhattan. Free in the low lands of Simi Valley, the Mountains of Colorado. Free in swamps and bayous of Louisiana and the Smokey Mountains of Tenn. Tell the world that we are free again.  Free to taste the fruits of our labors and that smoky flavor that touches the tip of your tongue and tickles your taste buds.  Promising  of more good things to come.  

Yes, my dear brothers and sisters, in the world outside ours. Out of the circle of  folks like us. Who like so many others now know that  BBQ means freedom. Freedom from want. Freedom from mosquito bites and freedom to worship the best stuff on earth.  BBQ of any kind will reinforce those freedoms our founding fathers won for us.  The men who put their lives and white wigs on the line.  Knowing that if they did not hang separately they would surely hang together at the next BBQ extravaganza.  It is no coincidence that July 4th , is marked by backyard BBQs all over America. 

Big Al Talks Big BBQ: BBQ AFLOAT ON A BOATI had heard about this guy n...

Big Al Talks Big BBQ: BBQ AFLOAT ON A BOAT

I had heard about this guy n...: BBQ AFLOAT ON A BOAT I had heard about this guy named ,  “Mo”. Some how his name was short for “Hezekiah” . How did that happen ?  Go...

Big Al Talks Big BBQ: War Over Wood

Big Al Talks Big BBQ: War Over Wood: BBQ WARS Of CLAUSEN MT. Or. The wood wars of Clausen county Well the way the mullet smokers tell it.  It was over a patch of ground at...

Big Al Talks Big BBQ: War Over Wood

Big Al Talks Big BBQ: War Over Wood: BBQ WARS Of CLAUSEN MT. Or. The wood wars of Clausen county Well the way the mullet smokers tell it.  It was over a patch of ground at...

BBQ AFLOAT ON A BOAT

I had heard about this guy named ,  “Mo”. Some how his name was short for “Hezekiah” . How did that happen ?  Got around to talking to some river rats on my way to see this guy and his Smokin’ boat.  Naturally my curiosity was peaked and his name always popped up. The answer was always the same. “ Ask me o’no questions and I will tell you o’ no lies”.  Was the best  response that I could get.  Probably because they didn’t know.  ‘Cause no one ever told them,  specially Mo.

This was a new one for me.  Smoking BBQ on a boat and bringing it to what ever folks around here wanted it. An enterprise undertaken because of hard times and need to make a living. The river he plied was long and tricky.  Sand bars always changing positions and hard to navigate for someone who didn’t understand the shifting waters.  It was risky business to do business. On this waterway.  Today was Tuesday and he was due to hit this part of the county.  Bringing smoked pork and smoked pulled chicken and ribs that no one really talked about.  Matter of fact I was more curious about his name than his BBQ. 

The sound from it’s steam whistle awoke me from a semi conscience day dream. There it was coming around the bend of that sandy bottom river.  It looked as if it was about 38 ft long with a flat bottom. High gunnels and a full array of smoking gear. The smoke permeating the air with a sweet spicy hickory flavor.  The name on the raised and squared off bow said ,  “Mo” over white paint that needed to be, let  us say, refreshed.

I made my way up the gang plank with the other folks that lined up along the bank.  Before I ripped off that first bite of smoked ribs and picked at my pulled pork and chicken, I asked  how did he get “Mo” from Hezekiah. “ Hell” ,  he said from below the peak of a well worn cap.  “ Mo” is short for Missouri . I just didn’t have enough paint to finish the other letters.  I then took a taste of his well seasoned rubbed BBQ totally perplexed.
 
Next I asked,  “how and why did you get into this commercial enterprise”. He replied with a snort. "Hell this ain’t no enterprise,  it’s an activity".  How was the BBQ you wanna know ?  “ Ask me o’ no questions and I will tell you o’ no lies”.

War Over Wood

BBQ WARS Of CLAUSEN MT.
Or. The wood wars of Clausen county


Well the way the mullet smokers tell it.  It was over a patch of ground at the bottom of Clausen Mt.  Now I can tell you that I have heard other versions.  Just that nobody tells it like they do.  His thumbs hooked into his suspenders. “Mike tells it true“, says he. So matter of fact in its declaration that it took on a certain credibility. Along with the fact that no one really knew the story of the BBQ wars. Kind’a left it a moot point, so to speak. That is, as far as it’s taking on credibility. 

Getting back to the BBQ wars. The patch of land in question was bigger than a patch as the smokers tell it. According to Steve a mullet smoker with a large huge belly and skinny spindly legs, it was about 10 acres.  As luck has it. It was the premier wood used in smoking.  For some in Clausen county it was the only wood fit for smoking great BBQ.  Needles to say, according to the time honored rule of supply and demand. For some, it was priceless.  Hear tell the antagonists in the whole melee lost some precious kin over this premier wood.  There was at one time enough for all. Then those gas operated wood tree cutter downers appeared on the scene.  What followed made the feud between the Hatfields and Mc Coys look like diplomatic discourse. For most part of a week the smoke houses on the mountain were smoking. Too bad that they were providing the fuel for the smoke from that patch of land that no one owned. But everyone claimed. Every darn smoking and BBQ contraption ever devised or bought by perusing in the Sears and Roebuck mail order catalogue was in use the day before the tragedy.  The woman folk, hear tell had just about enough of it and the men coming home feeling no pain.

Now you want to know the end of the story. I am getting to it. But first a bite of my smoked brisket KC style. Just like in Queens, on a hero or what is close to a hero. Or, as close to something that is shaped like one. Ok so they ended up burning everything down.  Who, you may ask, could be involved in this disastrous wave of arson.  No one knows or will tell.  Because in the end the “patch of precious wood” went up in smoke on a clear Sunday morning. The weekly paper in town just reported the patch of the woods that was so very important to all as going on fire. Destroyed and bulldozed away.  A parking lot was built on the site. But no one parked there. No one ever  found out for sure who did the dastardly deed of clear cut arson.  Steve then said in that knowing way of his. Standing by the smoker and checking his BBQ.  His hat went back on his head as he adjusted the peak. Then with a pause he said, “the Butler did it“.

Can BBQ Help Cure The Common Cold?

Ah Choo

 !

End Sneezing and Sniffling

BBQ CAN HELP CURE THE COMMON COLD


This is an unsolicited testimonial I received from a devotee of  " Big Al Talks Big BBQ ". This is what he said.
I am going to put myself out on a limb.  I can tell you  with un fettered opinion.  I have seen it over and over again .  I meet someone who has a cold at a BBQ competition. Then see that particular person at another scheduled BBQ event.  Not even a sniffle .”  Anonymous. 
Obviously. I am not the author of that declaration.  It was told to me by a true lover of BBQ . To some it is almost like a cult.  I too love my share of pulled pork and double smoked bacon and ribs. To attribute a cure for the common cold to smoked chopped brisket.  A bit far fetched.  Maybe it is. Then again it depends on your point of view. 

I firmly believe in comfort food and it’s effect on the human psyche.  Let’s face it when it comes to comfort. BBQ can put you in a large tufted chair that hugs you.  Such a good feeling of  “peace of mind” .  I don’t think that there are any out there that would disagree.  If you fill your face with BBQ you will prevent yourself from putting your foot in your mouth. Now I think that is helpful to prevent injuries. Somehow or another I seem to recall smoked pulled chicken helping with a stuffy feeling.  I have to admit I put a bit more 3Bros Special Fire Sauce ,than usual. 

Of course there is nothing more helpful than keeping busy with a rack of  rubbed and smoked ribs. To take the edge off a stressful day.  Preventing a headache that would  be sure to follow.  Of course for severe depression.  There is no better pick me up than a bacon lettuce and tomato sandwich made up with double smoked bacon.  Is BBQ the future of modern remedies or it’s revival.

Lenny's BAR B QUE PIG

Lenny's BBQ Pig

Now there is a fella in New York. One of them big city corporate lawyers that live out on the Island of Long. You know the burbs.  Well every year for Memorial day just to kick off  the season. That's a big deal up in those northern climes where the summers are short an the winters are longer and longer. Global warming my foot.  He get's this compulsion to roast a pig over an open pit barbecue.  Mind you now it ain't just to roast a pig. I should point out that he likes company and has a large and close family. That pretty much do everything there is to do on L.I., together. It is one of those extended Italian families that still know who their 5th cousins are. If it ain't with one or two or more of them. Then it is with another one or two or more of them. Kind of clannish like, I would say. Nothing wrong with that. Family is one of the things you still got when there ain't nothing else to have.  Now there are lots of Joes and lots of Joes and lots of Joes. Yeah that seems to be a real popular name with some of these folks.  Starting to change a bit though. But that's ok.  After all what's in a name, so they say. As long as they know who's name it is.  Is all that matters in the final analysis.

He started out cooking pig by going small at the start and moving on up every year. I'd say he started with a nice little pig.Then moved up in size as the years went on and summers came and went. That he got from his cousin Tom who has a brother named Joe and a kid named Joe. Along with a grand dad named Joe and an uncle named Joe on his mother's side.  Now Lenny has a brother named Joe and a father named Joe who had a grandfather named Joe. Who's sons all named at least one kid Joe. Now I don't want to get into that Joe thing 'cause it can be quite confusing and tedious. I believe you get my drift.

Now Lenny invites all that can attend this bacchanal of a pig pullin' bonanza. While the pig roasts to it's finality there are lots of things going on. Having some brew just like they do at most bbqs and talking and running after grandchildren and crying babies to be looked after.  The older kids try to to keep the younger ones in tow and satisfy what whining and discourse that is bound to occur. 

The point is that the pig is done to a turn and as usual turns out perfect for the pullin' and the saucin' and the eatin'. Which goes to show that a north east big city lawyer can cook a pig. No matter how much it squeal's to begin with.

Small Town Hoods Mug BBQ Winner

Smoked Brisket

THUGS ROB RUB RECIPE

Now you may have seen this article in the papers.  I know a couple of big town daily newspapers carried the story. I wasn't going to write about it. Me being so modest and all ?  I was mugged about three weeks ago come Friday,  Can you believe it ?  In this small town just south of the county line.  About a half mile from the local Sheriff's post. In the middle of the day.  Oh my goodness it was truly frightening.  Now I am one of those north east transplants that was raised on street tar and concrete. Who never, never was mugged or felt any danger at all.  Well I was mugged once. But they were a nice couple of fellas that only cut my belly just a little bit. They apologized though and said they slipped with the box cutter. I have been down here more than 25 yrs come next July.  I never in trillion yrs. thought this would happen to me in more than one life time.  I figured I was in real trouble seeing that I don't carry any cash.  That's when they get angry and try to take a piece of your hide just for the fun of it.

Surprise, surprise they wasn't after my money.  They was after my rub recipe. Can you believe it ? One guy he had his arm around my neck and they pulled me into the doorway of the old grain and feed store.  The other guy stood there with a note book and a pencil. You know one of those brown pencils with no eraser.

Now I knew he was a country boy that could not have been too young because he kept putting the tip of the pencil up to his mouth.  Under his bandana mask  Yeah, like you used to do when folks used to write with an indelible pencil and would have to wet the tip.  Before ball point pens.  That is not so long ago because I was the ink well monitor when I was in the second grade. To fill up our fountain pens. That had to be about 60 yrs. ago.

Seems he had seen in the local paper that only comes out three days a week.  I had won the prize for my smoked brisket. So I gave it to him. Hell I was not about to give up my adams apple for a rub recipe. Any way, I just could not bear the odor that was being emitted from the flannel shirt.  This fella who was holding me was wearing.  I can tell you that the smell stayed with me for at least 2 days.  Now I immediately jumped in my truck and reported it to the deputy down at the Sheriff's post.  He wanted to know if I could identify them fellas.  Hell that was easy cause one of them had on those sneakers that lit up as you walked.  Next day I got my recipe back and an apology from the perpetrators.  I didn't press charges because I just took their caper as a compliment.

Oyster Stew and BBQ

Inauguration Celebration Oyster Stew and BBQ

Ok so we are all set to have a great time at the local fire house this weekend. I have been named and selected by a august personage of Louis the barber, his bride of 28 years, Molly ( happenstance), Rico the local Pharmacist and entrepreneur, Kyle the landscaper of Kyle's Landscaping and Feed Store. Off  Rt. 54. Let us not forget to mention Slippery Slim Sheinbaum from Rope a Dopes Cafe and Exotic Dance Club. Where you pay the girls to put their clothes on. LOL  Not really, I just tell that to my significant other.  Makes her feel secure.

 Now we are going to try something different this week end in celebration of the inauguration. An event that glorifies, sanctifies, and epitomises the promise of America and proves to the world that anything is possible in the good ole' USA.  The land of the free and the home of the brave. Ditto five times. Being it get's a little chilly around this time of the year even in these parts of southern climes. We are going to make a giant kettle of L.I, Oyster Stew with Oysters, you guessed it shipped in from Oyster Bay, L.I. New York with a recipe I took note of on the internet.http://alsrecipeforsuccess.blogspot.com. Now I want it to be authentic as it can be. We have oysters down these parts off the shore of the Gulf of Mexico. But I wanted it to be exact.

Of course we will have all the other fixins that make a BBQ special like smoked ribs and pulled pork and the like. Especially since one of the participants of the inauguration likes to eat them ribs by the car load. If you don't mind my saying so, looks as if she does.  Boy she can chomp down on those ribs. You would think she was going to eat the bone. She don't even need any of those alligator sharp teeth. She just sucks the meat right off like a vacuum cleaner.  You know like in one of those vacuum cleaner demonstrations.  Looks like the french fries I heard she likes go right to her caboose. Heck she looks like she has an aircraft carrier on her back.  Heck we got to do it up right when we inaugurate the new barn and and caffe of the 4 H club right here off Rt 54. Now old Slippery Slim asked me to mention that it is right cross from the Exotic Dance Club. Heck I could use the free pass. So we'll see ya'all next weekend. Bring a bowl for the stew.  

BBQ FOR A GOOD TIME

 I Love BBQ

I love bbq it's true,
It is not an event,
Just more that a few,
Friends and neighbors 
Gather y'all  round
We are going to 
Make a rip roarin' sound,

When out of the smoker,
Comes pork beef and chicken
It's time for finger lickin,
Grab the cold cider,
Or wash it down with brew,
Grab a bottle of Mountain Dew,
Jeb's white lighnin' goes a' round, 

We are really going to town,
Tune up the banjo,
Let's hear that fiddle,
Walk your gal right up the middle,
It's time for the dosie dose,
Take a sip from that ole' jar,
Now start a strumin' that guitar.

 

Smoke On Easter

SMOKIN’ BBQ  EASTER
You could be reading this while contemplating what will make up your Easter Sunday dinner.  Some people seem to think there is no “ Christmas “ in Florida. The reason, no snow. Of course we in Florida know we do Christmas better. Then there is Easter. We do that better too. Along with all my smoking’ mullet buddies. Used to be a roasted baby lamb was the center piece of our traditional table. How I loved the smell of garlic and parsley and other herbs that denoted the fierce flavorings of southern European cooking.
Can you beat it? Not likely.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           
Not anymore baby,cause I discovered a “smoking BBQ” Easter which I have been partaking  and creating along with my smoked mullet friends down here along the bayou. We been doing this for the past  20 years down here in paradise.  My dear friends up north I can tell you this. The only thing we don’t  pull and smoke and bbq is the potato salad. We got ourselves some alligator tail , armadillo , pork butt, pulled and sauced. You can’t have Easter with out eggs. We smoke them too. Ever have smoked asparagus. You got it, we smoke them too. Being a classy group my smoked mullet crew call them asparagi. We eliminated possum cause we don’t  want people to get the wrong idea. After all I can I explain that to the bbq guys in Queens.

Truly a marked change from baby lamb to smoked and rubbed brisket as the center piece of our Easter  celebration.  Don’t know how you folks feel about it.  I can tell you how I feel about it as soon as I take my next taste of simply superb tasting bbq that we smoked right here on the shores of the deep southern part of the country. After taking a well deserved snooze from all that hard lemonade. It’s everybody in the pool.
The last one in has to clean the smoke shifter and clean the sky hooks. What ever those are…