Fedex put my new PBC on the doorstep yesterday morning, so I drove the sweet Highlander at illegal speeds to the spice store and butcher and procured two racks of baby backs and fixins for my first cook. Spoiler alert: I'm a newbie so there was some learning happening. I have a thermometer and chimney coming from Amazon, but not here yet, so I went the lighter fluid route and just tried to follow the rib video on PBC's YouTube channel.
I took the coal basket out, filled it to level, and doused the brickets with fluid. I didn't have gloves, so I tried to pick up the basket with a hook and dumped a bunch (OK, all) of the briquets out on the ground. Glanced around furtively to see if anyone caught that pro move. All clear. Put the charcoal back in the basket and lowered the basket into the cooker bare-handed. Set the bottom vent one quarter open (I'm at 216 feet above sea level, more or less) and lit the coals. Gratified to see flames jump up, suggesting that there would be heat and cooking going on soon. In Pro Move Number Two, put the lid on the cooker and went inside to prep the ribs.
Cut the ribs out of their Cryovac. They seemed appropriately ribbish. Successfully pulled off the membranes. Two things in a row went right. Starting to get cocky. Mixed up some Memphis Dust, oiled the ribs, and rubbed 'em good. Three things in a row. Thinking I might want to consider competitions. Stuck the hooks in after the second rib on the thick end, and strutted toward the PBC, brandishing ribs like a boss. Too bad I forgot the GoPro. Took off the PBC lid. Of course, the fire was out from lack of air. Fragments of shattered barbecue greatness fell gently all around me.
In a haze of demolished ego and idiocy, I squirted more lighter fluid directly on the coals without removing the basket from the cooker. Thought briefly to myself, "This is how stupid people die." Despite solid effort, failed to incinerate myself. I won't do that again. Lit the coals, left the lid off, and 12 minutes later the basket was ashed over and seemed ready. Put the rods in, and hung the ribs. It seems that a tall pig contributed these ribs. Ends of ribs were touching the charcoal. That seemed bad. Pulled them out and put the hooks in lower. Kind of awkard hanging them with the hooks four ribs down, but it worked. Put the lid on the PBC. Smoke seemed to be coming out of the appropriate places, so I stared at it until I realized there was nothing to look at. Elapsed time between putting lid on and realizing there was nothing more to look at: between 15 minutes and one hour. I kind of slipped into a meditative state there for a bit.
Went inside to watch the PBC rib video for the 23rd time. Noah did his first check at three hours, then waited 45 more minutes before pulling his baby backs to be sauced. Then they went back on for a little while more. He warned that users at lower elevations might have "just a little bit" shorter cook times. I figured I'd check my ribs at three hours and probably sauce them right then, 45 minutes earlier than Noah did. Commenced with making up some KC Classic sauce from the recipe on the site.
At three hours on the nose, I lifted the lid of the PBC, only to see that one of my racks had fallen off the hook and into the fire basket. NOAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I grabbed my tongs (that's right, I actually did have tongs) and extracted the fallen ribs. Two or three worth were black and smoldering, but the rest looked OK and done. Pulled both racks and sauced them. Figured I wouldn't press my luck with any more cooking to caramelize the sauce.
Here's what's crazy. Even after dumping charcoal all over the place, trying to start a fire with no air, trying to blow myself up by intentionally ignoring the (very clear) instructions on the lighter fluid can, accidentally buying extra-long basketball playing pig ribs, dropping one of them into a fiery bed of coals, and not sizzling the sauce on, it all (minus the black ones) turned out amazingly delicious. My family and guests were fighting over the last few ribs, and I came off like a Big Damn Hero.
Executive Summary - Total newb did everything wrong and still made the best ribs of his life, thanks to this site.
I took the coal basket out, filled it to level, and doused the brickets with fluid. I didn't have gloves, so I tried to pick up the basket with a hook and dumped a bunch (OK, all) of the briquets out on the ground. Glanced around furtively to see if anyone caught that pro move. All clear. Put the charcoal back in the basket and lowered the basket into the cooker bare-handed. Set the bottom vent one quarter open (I'm at 216 feet above sea level, more or less) and lit the coals. Gratified to see flames jump up, suggesting that there would be heat and cooking going on soon. In Pro Move Number Two, put the lid on the cooker and went inside to prep the ribs.
Cut the ribs out of their Cryovac. They seemed appropriately ribbish. Successfully pulled off the membranes. Two things in a row went right. Starting to get cocky. Mixed up some Memphis Dust, oiled the ribs, and rubbed 'em good. Three things in a row. Thinking I might want to consider competitions. Stuck the hooks in after the second rib on the thick end, and strutted toward the PBC, brandishing ribs like a boss. Too bad I forgot the GoPro. Took off the PBC lid. Of course, the fire was out from lack of air. Fragments of shattered barbecue greatness fell gently all around me.
In a haze of demolished ego and idiocy, I squirted more lighter fluid directly on the coals without removing the basket from the cooker. Thought briefly to myself, "This is how stupid people die." Despite solid effort, failed to incinerate myself. I won't do that again. Lit the coals, left the lid off, and 12 minutes later the basket was ashed over and seemed ready. Put the rods in, and hung the ribs. It seems that a tall pig contributed these ribs. Ends of ribs were touching the charcoal. That seemed bad. Pulled them out and put the hooks in lower. Kind of awkard hanging them with the hooks four ribs down, but it worked. Put the lid on the PBC. Smoke seemed to be coming out of the appropriate places, so I stared at it until I realized there was nothing to look at. Elapsed time between putting lid on and realizing there was nothing more to look at: between 15 minutes and one hour. I kind of slipped into a meditative state there for a bit.
Went inside to watch the PBC rib video for the 23rd time. Noah did his first check at three hours, then waited 45 more minutes before pulling his baby backs to be sauced. Then they went back on for a little while more. He warned that users at lower elevations might have "just a little bit" shorter cook times. I figured I'd check my ribs at three hours and probably sauce them right then, 45 minutes earlier than Noah did. Commenced with making up some KC Classic sauce from the recipe on the site.
At three hours on the nose, I lifted the lid of the PBC, only to see that one of my racks had fallen off the hook and into the fire basket. NOAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I grabbed my tongs (that's right, I actually did have tongs) and extracted the fallen ribs. Two or three worth were black and smoldering, but the rest looked OK and done. Pulled both racks and sauced them. Figured I wouldn't press my luck with any more cooking to caramelize the sauce.
Here's what's crazy. Even after dumping charcoal all over the place, trying to start a fire with no air, trying to blow myself up by intentionally ignoring the (very clear) instructions on the lighter fluid can, accidentally buying extra-long basketball playing pig ribs, dropping one of them into a fiery bed of coals, and not sizzling the sauce on, it all (minus the black ones) turned out amazingly delicious. My family and guests were fighting over the last few ribs, and I came off like a Big Damn Hero.
Executive Summary - Total newb did everything wrong and still made the best ribs of his life, thanks to this site.
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