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“.