Walt's Corner

This was not only my first time cooking a tri-tip, but I did it unconventionally – smoked it like a brisket. It turned out amazing.

Mustard was the binder. Seasonings consisted of Killer Hogs AP, Fiesta Fajita Seasoning, and shit-ton of fresh cracked pepper. I do not eat brisket by the slice with the exception my taste test after smoking it; I use it for my tacos, nachos, and burritos. That’s why I went ahead and threw some fajita seasoning in the mix.

Post oak and a small amount of cherry wood was used for the smoke. Temperature was maintained between 250-264 for the whole cook. Reached 165º at almost 4 hours in at which point I wrapped it in foil and placed back on until it was probe tender, almost 2 hours. Final temp was 203º.

After a 30 minute rest on the counter the slicing began. It was so juicy and pull apart tender. Tasted just like a brisket.

This tri-cut is going to be my go-to for when I don’t spend all morning, afternoon, and some evening smoking a real brisket. Previously, my go-to was a good chuck or roast and I would end up discarding probably a fifth of the weight in fat after it was cooked.

There’s not a whole lot of fat on a trimmed tri-cut but there is enough internal marbling to keep it juicy during a 5-6 hour cook. In the picture here you can see just how lean this piece was. There was no fat left for me to cut off. Most impressive.

Every now and then, Weber puts out an exclusive version of their iconic BBQ Kettle.

Years ago, I was skeptical of kettle BBQs. I looked down on them. I saw them as a beginners’ grill. I was way past a beginner. I skip-shifted to what I viewed as the higher grills and smokers.

However, after seeing Malcolm from HOW TO BBQ RIGHT getting down on his trusty Weber my views started to change and I eventually picked up the cheapest model to check it out. I was so wrong. Pretty much after my first cook I upgraded to a Master-Touch model and gave away the other one.

Soon after I bought the high end Weber Performer Deluxe which is just their kettle mounted to a hefty cart and includes a gas-fueled lighter to get your coals lit.

I’ve smoked everything from my standard brisket and pork shoulders to the occasional chicken shawarma or gyro meat spikes. I even turned my old Master-Touch into a pizza oven.

I haven’t used my Old Country BBQ stick smoker in the last 2 years and anyone that knows me knows I’m constantly smoking brisket and pork shoulders. I need to sell it. Someone will be happy to get a deal on it.

I’ve even picked up some smaller versions of Weber’s kettle for camping, whether it’s just a couple wieners or burgers for the two of us (Smokey Joe) or something small but slightly bigger/capable than the Smokey Joe (Jumbo Joe). I also have a the small Weber Go Anywhere propane grill for those times when charcoal grilling is banned due to fire-restrictions in the forest.

Which brings me to my subject – The Star Spangled Kettle. Sold exclusively at the Walmart, I had mine delivered for $150. Just a standard low end BBQ kettle but with the red stripes on white background on the bowl and the lid is blue with white stars around the edges. Beautiful. But being the low end kettle, it lacks the advanced ash catcher though it still has the standard pan. Also missing from this tier of kettle is the build in thermometer. Regardless of the lack of features it is still a beautiful kettle and I wanted it.

I ordered a cart similar to the Performer cart, a (red, white and blue) thermometer to install in the lid, some handles for the three daisy wheel dampers son in the bowl, and Weber’s Gourmet BBQ System I have many of the inserts for this system on my Performer and wanted to have the same options available without having to swap grates.

End result turned out grate! I mean GREAT!

‘MERICA!

Sometimes I do not understand the human tendency that tries to skirt the uncomfortable boundaries of losing someone. Other times I can understand why some would feel that way, but for me it is quite the opposite. I have lost lives that were an integral part of my own. Who hasn’t? That could be a person or yes, even a pet! I can only assume that those who shit on someone’s loss of a pet never really loved a pet as much as those of us who truly mourn ours.

Nothing has ever expressed this gut feeling of mine of love and loss more than a quote from one of my favorite TV shows, WESTWORLD. The sci-fi TV series (HBO) that expounded on the original WESTWORLD movie by Michael Crichton. A story about an entertainment park full of robots. Where one could fulfill their best wholesome or darkest desires without fear of reprisal or judgement because the horrendous acts they are committing are done to robots, not actual humans. The TV show version described the actions you took as either going White Hat or Black Hat. It is all one huge game. The 1973 movie starred Yul Brynner as a cowboy robot that exceeds his programming and begins killing those humans who have wronged him. I first saw this movie as a child with my father. It was one of the most frightening movies that I experienced.

Several years ago, HBO produced the TV series that expounded upon the original WESTWORLD. It gave us 4 great seasons and brought the storyline to us from the vantage point of the robots. These robots who eventually gained consciousness through a series of pain and suffering. Here, every time one of the robots, or hosts, died, their memory would be wiped, bodies fixed, and put back into play just to be a victim again. Or watch their loved ones’ lives be extinguished again. Eventually, some of these hosts were able to access these “repressed” memories again and the horror would reassert itself and ultimately was responsible for certain hosts to achieve sentience. From there it was only a matter of time before they would try to break free from their captive world and take over ours. Some of these hosts lost family members but were still in play hundreds of years later. Those they loved and lost were gone for decades. The main character’s name is Delores.

When confronted with truth that her original family had been gone for what was literally lifetimes and was given the opportunity to have the slate erased, decided against it.

Dolores: “Everyone I cared about is gone, and it hurts … so badly”
Bernard/Arnold: “I can make that pain go away if you like”
Dolores: “why would I want that? The pain … their loss … it’s all I have left of them. You think the grief will make you smaller inside—like your heart will collapse in on itself—but it doesn’t. I feel spaces opening up inside of me like a building with rooms I’ve never explored…”

It’s all I have left of them. That is exactly how I feel. I don’t want to lose the only thing I have that remains of them or ties them to me. The Grief. The emptiness. The void their presence left behind. Avoiding that grief would be avoiding the ones I’ve lost. I refuse to give that part up. I choose to relish that grief. Embrace it. It’s all I have left of them. It is what makes us human. The older I get, the more my memories are seemingly out of reach. I want to create somewhat of a small journal of these losses. The less I tend to think back on these memories the harder it gets to remember. Hopefully this exercise in memory recall will assist in retaining these memories. Even if only to pass down to my future generations. Another beautiful quote from the series is, “You only live as long as the last person who remembers you.”

I’m not sure how many parts this particular theme of my blog will be comprised of, but I’m calling these posts OF LOVE AND LOSS.

Know what I can’t stand? Corned beef. You know, the Go-Fucking-To lucky meal of the holiday. Besides haggis. Tried it once. Corned beef, not haggis. You’ll never get me to try haggis. I sometimes like to say, “I’ll try anything once!” But no. As my wife is fond of saying, “That’s the exception that proves the rule.” And if you know my wife, she never says that. In fact, she hates when I say it.

For those that know me and my taste for food, I divide what I eat into 3 categories. But the more I think about it, let’s make that 4. Sorry Bill. I have fed you a lie for far too long.
• I love it (holy shit that’s good! I could eat this every day! I’m looking at you, pizza and tacos!)
• That didn’t make me gag (as it implies, I didn’t gag. I wouldn’t say I dislike it. I can eat it, but I won’t go out of my way to have it again.)
• That made me gag (yeah – no. I hate gagging. I will not be trying this again unless I may have had a bad batch in which case I’ll try another brand or another restaurant’s version just to be sure. As I learned with Menudo after trying 5 different restaurants – not for me. I gagged 5 times in sequentially more violent ways. After 5 times I threw up in my mouth a little and it tasted the same.)
• I’ll never try that shit. (Nope. Not while I’m alive and have free will.)

I’m known for making food dishes and bringing them to work. My most requested food is my chili. So much so that my colleagues chipped in and bought me a bigger crock pot just so I didn’t have a reason to bring in no less than 4 quarts of the stuff. Which brings me to subject story.

One day, Debbie, along with several of her workers, beg me to make some corned beef for our office’s St. Paddy’s Day celebration. After much arguing, I reluctantly agreed. I did my research. I put together a big corned beef meal. Set it up in the crock pot for overnight slow cooking. I woke up many times during the night wondering what the fuck that urine smell was permeating my house. I gagged a few times just from the smell. I made a solemn vow to myself that I would never make that again. My house stunk for a couple days.

They all loved it, so I guess it was a hit. But no. I will never make that shit again. After 3 years they gave up on ever asking me to make corned beef.

Have we learned nothing from Jurassic Park? Scientists who are Fucking around are getting ever so closer to the Find Out. They genetically modified mice with qualities of the extinct woolly mammoth in hopes of doing the same with some Asian elephants to eventually be release into the arctic.

Just look at those things! Appears one already has chunks bitten out of its ear for fuck’s sake. In the words of Dr. Malcolm, “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.” Personally, I’d rather focus on the saber tooth koala. We’d at least have a better chance at outrunning those things once they got out of hand and broke free of their cages.

This can’t end well. But they do like kind of cute.