As the car makes a sharp turn along the curving driveway of the Greenbrier Resort in the lush West Virginia mountains, there is a moment when my gaze snaps to a stunning tree-framed view of the gleaming white facade of the hotel. I involuntarily say, “Wow.”
I have come to the resort to attend Steven Raichlen’s Barbecue University, hosted by the Culinary Arts Center of the Greenbrier. After checking in, I wander around the main hotel. In the lobby, the high ceilings, the grand art, and the expansive architecture of its galleries awe me. There is the immense formal main dining room. All of these are features of an era long gone but lovingly preserved. It is a home away from home for royalty, presidents, ceos, and celebrities. So it strikes me as paradoxical that such a place would hold a three-day course on barbecue cooking. Grilled Beer-Can Chicken with Dom Perignon?
Later that evening, I attend a reception with my 22 fellow students of bbq U. It’s a diverse group of men and women, including a New Jersey bond trader, a mass transit administrator from Eugene, Oregon, and an ad executive from Chicago. As we amble on with introductions and polite conversation, I discover I am in the midst of the true believers of barbecue, and they have come to hear the guru of the grill, Steven Raichlen. He has impressive credentials: As the author of two dozen cookbooks, including Miami Spice, The Barbecue! Bible, and the whimsical Beer Can Chicken, Raichlen’s culinary knowledge is encyclopedic. During the course, no question stumps him, not even those regarding cooking. He is trim and energetic; an engaging and easy smile often stretches his salt-and-pepper beard.
Raichlen hosts the new public television series Barbecue University with Steven Raichlen. It is yet another tendril of the “epiphany” he says led him to “follow the fire”—to learn everything he could about live-fire cooking. To do this, he set out to follow the world’s barbecue trail, circumnavigating the globe in eight trips during three years, and cataloging the multicultural nuances of the grill. Invariably, whether in Anguilla or Vietnam, Raichlen notes that “cabbies seem to possess the most unerring knowledge of who serves the best barbecue.”
Primary School: Light My Fire
During our first class, we learn how to set up gas and charcoal grills, and smokers for various methods of cooking. Raichlen prefers to cook with lump charcoal rather than gas. As he ignites wads of newspaper under a fully loaded charcoal chimney, he revels in the “unmitigated joy of starting a fire.” The foundation of Raichlen’s lesson plan reflects his commitment to leave no student behind. The rote memorization of his primary rubric—“keep it hot, keep it clean, and keep it lubricated”—will make anyone look accomplished at the grill. He slyly suggests this formula can double as etiquette for lively conversation at the table.
The 25 recipes he uses for his classes (7 of which are adapted here) are designed to engage both cook and crowd. “Theatrics are an important part of grilling,” says Raichlen. Whether visually, as with the Barbecued Cabbage with Santa Fe Seasonings, or by some cleverness, as with the Sugarcane Shrimp, Raichlen has designed the recipes to elicit “Wow!” when you present them at the table.
Advanced Study
My mba thesis (Master of Barbecue Arts) is a comparison and contrast of the classes for relevance to Cooking Light. I am glad to report that there is more to barbecue than Boston butt and brisket. I relearn that barbecue is inherently a light method of cooking. Fat melts away from the food, and little additional fat is needed to prepare grilled recipes. The recipes covered in our classes are a delicious geography lesson, with refreshing turns from Asia, Latin America, and the Old World. Interspersed are satisfying variations of old and new American classics. Raichlen thinks both inside and outside the (smoking) box. “Anything can and will be done on the grill,” is another lesson; “if it tastes good steamed, sautéed, broiled, baked, or deep-fried, it probably tastes better grilled,” says Raichlen.
Pomp and Circumstance
Each of us works with Raichlen on a recipe. When I go to the front of the class to prepare a dessert with peaches, it suddenly feels like being in third grade again, standing at the blackboard and having to show your work. As I stand behind the intense heat of the teacher’s grill, the class shimmers just beyond. I wonder to myself, “Am I sweating because of the btus or the nervous premonition that I will somehow ignite myself as well as the peaches?”
Professor Raichlen eases me through the recipe with congenial intensity, and he offers patient instruction and good-natured humor: “There is no such thing as a mistake in the kitchen,” he notes, “just a new recipe waiting to be discovered.” I thankfully get through the exam without creating new recipes.
Each day and through the evenings, we sample and share recipes and barbecue stories. Newly confident in my skills, I can laugh at myself and admit to the others that I have incinerated not one, but two, whole pigs in my pre–bbq u life. Funny what good food and drink will do for what once was a group of strangers. It’s like that with barbecue—the guy from Oregon can speak fluently with the guy from Jersey. Barbecue has always been about bringing people together, whether you’re at the Greenbrier or in your own backyard.
