Scott Hutcheson

Halloween: Memories in the Making (and recipe for Spider Web Pizza)

Originally published in hauntingly delicious newspapers on October 29, 2009

I love Halloween but not in the sacrifice a goat and worship the devil sort of way. You won’t find any zombies or tombstones in my yard and my kid’s won’t be dressed in gory costumes. This year they’ll be disguised as a pint-sized version of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.

Part of what our family loves about this holiday is that it is a neighborhood affair. We live in the North Meridian area where centuries-old maples line the streets forming a golden fall canopy and porch lights illuminate homes where generations of kids have tricked and treated. Going house to house with our kids we see lots of friends. Kids compare their loot while the adults catch up on each others’ week. 

Sometimes I’m envious of our friends who live in new subdivision with their big backyards and perfect sidewalks but all that envy melts away on Halloween evening when my neighborhood becomes a real-life version of what movie sets and theme park main streets try to copy.  

I have no doubt that for my children, trick or treating in our neighborhood will be a lifelong memory they will cherish their whole lives. When you think about it, memories are all we really bring with us on the journey from childhood into the adult world. Even if you manage to keep friends for a lifetime it is your shared memories that create the bond. 

The dinner table is another place where we try to create some Halloween memories. My wife usually makes some spooky desserts and I concentrate my efforts on a fun entrée. Over the last few years I’ve come up with Stuffed Monster Heads (aka stuffed peppers) and Werewolf Paws (aka calzones). This year it was Spider Web Pizza. I know I’ve only got a few years to have this sort of fun with my kids so we are making the most of it and creating as many memories as we can.
   
Spider Web Pizza
This pizza can be made completely from scratch or you can certainly purchase a ready-made crust and use a jarred sauce. The most essential component is the mozzarella cream sauce used to make the web and the spiders made of olives and carrots.  

Spiders
Canned pitted whole black olives
Carrots

Each olive will make one spider so use as many olives as you like. For each olive, cut eight thin carrot sticks, about the thickness of a toothpick and about two inches long. Use an actual toothpick to poke holes in each side of each olive, ideally four holes per side. The olives I used were on the small side so I could only get three holes per side. I realize that an insect with six legs isn’t technically a spider but I hoped my kids wouldn’t notice or care. Once you have the holes poked, insert a carrot “leg” into each hole. Please the spiders on the pizza prior to baking.

Mozzarella Cream Sauce
3-1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/3/4 cups heavy cream, heated just until steaming
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1/3 cup shredded mozzarella

Over medium-low heat, melt butter in a heavy-bottom, medium sauce pan. Add flour, whisking constantly. Cook, whisking occasionally, for 2-3 minutes; do not let the mixture brown. Whisking constantly, add about two tablespoons of the hot cream to the sauce pan. Add the remaining hot cream in small increments, whisking constantly until a smooth paste forms. Whisk in remaining hot cream and add salt and pepper to taste. Cook, stirring with a wooden spoon until the sauce is thick and creamy, about ten minutes. Add the mozzarella, stirring until melted and fully incorporated. Let cool for about 30 minutes and then place in a squeezable condiment bottle. After the pizza is cooked, use the squeeze bottle to pipe on a spider web pattern of your choosing. Ig you are uncomfortable using your imagination, you can Google spider webs to find a picture of one.

Chicken Fry (and recipe for Chicken-Fried Ribeye Strips)

Originally published in sweet and sticky newspapers on October 22, 2009

I won’t go so far as to say they won’t eat poultry at all in Oklahoma; but birds of a feather seem to be able to flock together more safely in the Sooner state than in other environs. Maybe that is why cowboy Curly McLain gently encouraged chicks, and ducks, and geese to scurry along as he maneuvered his fringe-topped surrey down the dusty roads of the Great Plains. I’m not sure Curly would have yielded as readily to a herd of steer, especially of he was hungry.

In this area of the country, beef is nearly always what’s for dinner, from Texas brisket to Kansas City strip steaks. In Oklahoma they love beef so much they’ve reinterpreted non-beef dishes to create bovine versions. If you are visiting friends in Oklahoma and someone suggests a “chicken fry” for dinner, there will not be any actual chicken involved. The chicken-fried steak is a staple of Sooner cuisine. You can certainly find chicken-fried steak in other states, but Oklahoma takes it to the next level.

Having spent the first nine years of my life in Oklahoma, and returning to visit, frequently, it has become one of the foods I make sure to experience when there. Most often, chicken-friend steak is accompanied by a pepper-flaked white gravy and served with mashed potatoes. You can also find sandwich versions of the delicacy, the beef equivalent of our own pork tenderloin. 

My own interpretation of the dish departs slightly from the traditional version. I prefer using a rib eye instead of the bottom round usually used. The ribeye costs more but I really like the texture. I also make strips, which are easier for my kids to eat. Fried beef with gravy isn’t a food that should probably on our menus on a daily basis, but it’s a delicious comfort food that can be a perfect indulgence on a cool fall day.   

Chicken-Fried Ribeye Steak Strips

• 2 pounds of 1/3 to 1/2 -inch thick ribeye steaks, trimmed of excess fat
• 2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 3 whole eggs, beaten
• 1/4 cup vegetable oil
• 2 cups chicken broth
• 1/2 cup whole milk, warm milk

Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Place the flour into a pie pan and the eggs into a separate pie pan. Season both sides of each piece of steak with salt and pepper then dredge the meat on both sides in the flour, shaking off the excess. Pound each steak to about 1/4 inch and cut into 1/2 strips. Dredge each strip in the flour, followed by the egg, and then in the flour a final time. Place the meat onto a plate and allow it to sit for 10 to 15.

Place enough of the vegetable oil to cover the bottom of a 12-inch sauté pan and set over medium-high heat. Once the oil begins to shimmer, add the strips in batches, being careful not to overcrowd the pan. Cook each piece on both sides until golden brown, approximately four minutes per side. As they are cooked, move the strips to a wire rack set in a half sheet pan and place into the oven. Repeat until all of the meat is browned. You may need to replace the oil half way through of too much flour has been released into the oil, turning it dark brown.

Once finished frying the strips, remove all but one tablespoon of the oil and whisk in three tablespoons of the flour left over from the dredging. Add the chicken broth and deglaze the pan. Whisk until the gravy comes to a boil and begins to thicken. Add the warm milk and whisk until the gravy coats the back of a spoon, approximately five to ten minutes. Season to taste with salt and lots of black pepper; and serve the gravy over the strips or in a small dish for dipping.

Pleasures of the Bendy Straw

I'm going to miss having a four year old in my house. My youngest will be five soon and with each passing day he will become harder to delight. I know this because I watched it happen with his older brother. The other day my little one had a cold drink in hand and asked for a straw. He was overjoyed to see that it was one of those that was flexible. "Oooh, a bendy straw," he said with widened eyes, as much to himself as to me. It won't be long before he will be much more difficult to please.   

Bacon: The Gateway Meat (and recipe for Sriracha & Brown Sugar Bacon)

Originally published in toothsome newspapers on October 1, 2009

“Eat two pieces of bacon and call me in the morning.” Although the doctor didn’t officially write this on the prescription pad, these were his post-tonsillectomy instructions for my wife. We had heard that having one’s tonsils out as an adult was quite a bit more of an ordeal that it is for children but after several occurrences of strep, our doctor recommended this as the course of action for my wife. Healing seemed to be taking its own sweet time and the level of pain was nearly unbearable. Bacon was the doctor’s proposed remedy, mentioning something about nitrates, and crispy bacon edges scraping at the wounds.

I don’t know about you, but if I had a doctor actually insist that I eat bacon, I’d be as happy as…well…a middle-aged man in a bacon store. My wife didn’t have quite the same reaction. She had been a full-scale vegetarian for the previous decade, eating absolutely nothing with a face. We stopped by the store on the way home to “fill her prescription” but she remained un-persuaded. I told her that since we had bacon in the house anyway, I was fixing a BLT for myself. As I had hoped, sizzle and smell proved to be irresistible seducers.

After a couple days of bacon therapy, she was well on her way to a full recovery; but I began to note a change in her behavior over those next few weeks. Although she continued to live her veggie-patty lifestyle, I would catch her stealing lustful glances at my cheeseburgers and it wasn’t long before she began ordering fish and then chicken when we ate out. She eventually found her way completely back to the land of meat eaters but now considers herself an ethical carnivore, eating only animals that meet her definition of being humanly raised and free of antibiotics and growth hormones.

Now that we have kids, our family of four eats a well-balanced diet. Many of our meals are meatless, we eat far more poultry than red meat, and we buy our chicken, beef, and pork from local farmers, including our bacon. My favorite bacon supplier is Chef Chris Eley of Goose the Market in Indianapolis. Chris is to the bacon lover what Jerry Garcia was to the Deadheads. He has made an art out of the practice of bacon making, procuring his meat from Indiana’s finest pork purveyors, and smoking and curing it to perfection. His bacon is available daily in his store and he also offers a Bacon-of- the-Month Club.

I love bacon in many forms – with eggs, in a sandwich, atop baked beans. I have even had some amazing bacon ice cream. My most recent bacon obsession is a sweet and spice version I make with Sriracha, a Thai hot sauce named after the seaside city where it was first produced. Sriracha has a consistency much closer to ketchup then Tabasco and besides sun-ripened chili peppers, it includes vinegar, garlic, sugar, and salt. The heat from Sriracha is certainly warm but not overwhelmingly so. I love it on scrambled eggs and also use it to flavor stews and soups. Just about anywhere you might use a splash or two of Tabasco, Sriracha will work.

My latest bacon obsession includes Sriracha and brown sugar. The result is an explosive combination of sweet, salty, spicy flavors combined with the fatty goodness of the bacon.  If I could put a warning on this bacon, I would. Eat at your own risk, vegetarians, for this might be the very bacon that will push you over the meat cliff.

Bacon with Sriracha and Brown Sugar

• 8 strips of bacon (thick cut is best)
• Sriracha
• Brown Sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Put a baking rack on a baking sheet and arrange the eight strips of bacon on the rack. Squeeze a thin ribbon of Sriracha down the center of each strip of bacon. Use a pastry brush to spread coat the entire top surface of the bacon with the hot sauce. Sprinkle the top of each piece of bacon with a generous portion of brown sugar. Place in the oven and cook to your desired bacon doneness.  I like mine fairly well done which takes about 25 minutes.

A Friendly Game of Football

Originally published in crunchy newspapers on September 24, 2009

Friday night lights, Saturday tailgating, arm-chair quarterbacking on Sundays afternoons and Monday nights. They may call baseball the national pastime but you could certainly make an argument that football is just as much a national obsession.

One of the things I appreciate the most about the gridiron is that a player can’t do much on his own. In basketball a skilled player can grab the rebound, dribble the length of the court, and drive to the basket. In baseball, the batter at the plate can put a score on the board with a single swing of the bat that sends the ball over the fence. Football is different. Even when the fastest member of the team returns a kick-off for a touchdown, he doesn’t to it all alone. It takes a field full of blockers to clear the way. Football is unique too because it calls on players to be highly specialized. A defensive lineman has a single focus – bring down the guy with the ball.

One of the other aspects of the game I appreciate is that small consistent successes achieve the very same outcome as one giant success. When a team is on offence, all they need to do is move that ball an average of three yards and one foot on each and every down. Do that consistently and they put six points on the scoreboard, the very same six points that comes from an 80-yard touchdown pass from Payton Manning to Dallas Clark. Not to be too much of a pigskin philosopher, but there’s some simple yet profound lessons to be learned from what happens on the football field.

Another of my favorite parts of the game is not what occurs on the field; but what happens in the stands on Friday nights, in parking lots on Saturday mornings, and in living rooms around the big screen. As someone who writes about food, family, and community, I can’t think of better settings to be immersed in all three. Spending a Friday night attending a hometown high school game is as great way to experience community as any – seeing kid’s you’ve watch gown up play ball, cheer, bang the marching band drum, or just have a good time in the stands; spending time with other parents; and, of course, eating a ribeye sandwich from the Boosters.

The living room is another great place for the ultimate football experience, warmer and a bit more intimate than being there live. Whether it is the Super Bowl, one of the gazillion college bowlss, or just a regular-season match-up, watching at home with friends is always a good time. One of the best parts of these “home” games is the chance they provide for continuous grazing of wings, chili, nachos or whatever other football foods are on the buffet.

Each season I try to come up with a new signature dish to contribute to these viewing parties. This year it is a Smoky Jalapeño Popper Dip. This was inspired by a version of poppers I make on the grill – peppers stuffed with cheese, wrapped in bacon, and then smoked over hickory wood. They are delicious but don’t hold up well for the three hours it takes to watch a game. So this dip version works great eaten with chips or crackers. If this sounds good but you don’t have time to make it yourself, just invite me over to watch the next big game. This is what I’ll be bringing.
 
Smoky Jalapeño Popper Dip

• 8 jalapeño, halved (lengthwise), stemmed, and seeded
• 16 ounces of cream cheese, room temperature
• 16 ounces of sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
• 8 strips of bacon, cooked crisp, and crumbled
• Chips or crackers

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees, place the jalapeños on a baking sheet, and roast for about 20 minutes until soft and the skin is just beginning to char. Let cool and chop. Add the jalapeños and other ingredients (except chips or crackers) into a mixing bowl and combine. Clean hands are the best tools for this job. Please the mixture into an oven-proof dish and bake at 350 degrees uncovered for about 40 minutes or until the dip it bubbly around the edges and beginning to brown. This is terrific right out of the oven but still pretty good at room temperature.

Mending Both Bone & Spirit

Published in belly-filling newspapers on September 17, 2009

If the 12th visit was free, our punch card would be filled up by now. In just eight years as parents we've been to the ER much more than our share. Other families with boys tell us its par for the course in a testosterone-filled household.

I had my own share of injuries as a kid. There was the rusty nail through my foot from a less than adept kung fu move and a three-inch rip in meatiest part of my thigh courtesy of a rusty piece of sheet metal. You would think I grew up in a scrap yard with the sharp and rusty objects I encountered, but that wasn’t the case. I must have had a built-in metal detector that was stuck on the rust setting.

Since my sister will likely read this I have to also mention the time she “accidently” cut me with scissors and when she slammed my finger in the car door. Thanks, sis. It’s a wonder I reached my tenth birthday with all my digits still firmly attached to my body.

As an adolescent, my injuries came less from running around outside and more from sports – sprained ankles, bruised ribs, and jammed fingers. The black eye was the best badge of courage, not serious enough to put you on the disabled list but visible enough to solicit lots of compassion from the fairer sex. There’s nothing like a black eye to bring out a cheerleader’s inner Florence Nightingale. 

My children, my oldest in particular, loves to swap war stories. He takes in every detail of my tales of maimings and wants to see the scars. He then tells his own stories, exaggerating a bit more each time about the details, like the size of the rock his buddy Robbie pitched at his head when he was three.

As much daredevil as my oldest has in him, it is the youngest that is likely causing my insurance company to rewrite their actuary formulas. This week marked his third broken arm, all occurring within the last 14 months. This was the worst of the three, with the above-the-elbow break requiring a full-arm cast.

Seeing your own child hurt or sick is without a doubt one of life's must burdensome difficulties. My heart aches for families dealing with problems much more serious than broken arms. The most agonizing part of having a child in pain is the feeling of helplessness. Yesterday afternoon our little guy, although not in agony, was certainly uncomfortable. Aside from a dose of children’s pain reliever, there didn’t seem like there was much we could do for him.

As I thought ahead to dinner time, I decided that there was no better time for comfort food and when there was a broken arm in the house and that perhaps a version of macaroni and cheese with an extra boost of calcium might be good for both his bones and his spirit. I headed into the kitchen to whip up a version that included sharp cheddar, cream cheese, sour cream, and butter. It seemed to do the trick, filling his belly and setting him on the road to recovery. Good thing he’s not lactose intolerant.

Bone-Mending Macaroni and Cheese

• 1 lb elbow macaroni
• 4 tablespoons butter
• 4 tablespoon all-purpose flour
• 3 cups milk, heated in microwave
• 8 ounces cream cheese
• 8 ounces sour cream 
• 16 ounces sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
• Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
• Salt and freshly-cracked black pepper to taste
• ½ cup panko breadcrumbs

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cook macaroni according to directions, drain, and return to pot. While the macaroni is cooking, place a large sauce pan over a medium burner, add the butter and melt. Add the flour and stir with a whisk or wooden spoon until golden but not brown. Add the heated milk a little at a time, stirring constantly. After all the milk is added continue stirring until the mixture begins to thicken. Add the cream cheese in chunks so that it melts then add the sour cream and cheddar cheese. Add the nutmeg and salt and pepper to taste. Pour the cheese mixture into the macaroni and stir to combine. Spray a 9”x13" glass casserole dish with cooking spray and pour in the macaroni and cheese. Top with breadcrumbs and bake for 30-45 minutes, the lesser time for a creamier dish. This makes about ten servings.

The Mystery of the Maillard Reaction

Originally published in medium-toasted newspapers on September 10, 2009

Ever heard of the “Maillard Reaction?” Sure, it sounds like it could be the title of a thriller topping the New York Times Bestseller List, but it’s not. It’s a reaction studied by Louis Camille Maillard a French physician and chemist in the early 1900s. Now that you know what the guy did for a living you might hink that his reaction is something you don’t want to hear when you’re visiting with your doctor. “We have the results of your tests back and it appears that the stiffness in your joints is due to the Maillard Reaction.

Here’s one more piece of information. The Maillard Reaction is a chemical reaction between amino acids and sugars. If that doesn’t help maybe some context will. You may have observed this phenomenon this morning before you even left the house. One of the places it occurs is in your toaster when bread is transformed into toast. What happens is that when heated, carbon molecules in sugar combine with the amino acids in protein and browning is the result. This is the Maillard Reaction.

Toast is merely the warm-up act when it comes to all things Maillard. It is in meats where the process is most deliciously showcased. Ever wonder why we don’t boil a steak? It’s because much of what we crave in meats is the tasty by-products of the Maillard Reaction – the brown crust that forms when you place a steak on a hot grill or the crispy golden skin on a Thanksgiving bird. You have to have high heat (300 to 500 degrees) for it to occur. So boiling that steak won’t do the trick because the boiling point of water is 212 degrees. To optimize the reaction, the heat applied needs to be dry. That is why we often brown meat, like a pot roast, before adding a liquid for braising.

It’s hard to describe the flavor that results from browning, but is obvious when it is missing. For instance, one of my fast-food weaknesses is a sausage biscuit. I don’t want egg on it or cheese, just the sausage patty and the biscuit. Not all breakfast sandwiches are created equal. My favorite version comes from McDonalds. Drive down the street or across town to one of the other chains that serves the same menu item and their versions just don’t match up. A clue as to why is revealed when you remove the top half of the biscuit. The McDonald’s sausage patty is always nicely browned. They’ve figured out how to consistently take advantage of the Maillard Reaction. The patties from the other guys are usually an unappetizing grey, with no browning at all.

For the home cook, the secret to being the master of the Maillard domain is to use high dry heat to achieve that brown crust. The potential problem becomes how to not let that brownness cross over the dark side before the interior is cooked. My method is to use two different kinds of heat. On the grill, for instance, I’ll have an area of the grill with more coals than another. I’ll get that grill up to 400 degrees on the hot side and sear a steak and then move it to the cooler side to finish cooking.

My preferred indoor method for cooking a steak is to use both the stovetop and the oven. I’ll use an oven-proof skillet, like cast iron. Start the steak in a hot skillet, browning it on both sides and then moving the skillet to the oven to finish cooking. You can the violent heat of the stovetop for the Maillard Reaction then the more gentle heat of the oven to finish it off.

Fortunately, you don’t need a degree in chemistry to do much cooking but knowing a little bit about a few principals like the Maillard Reaction might come in handy in both the kitchen and maybe as small talk at a cocktail party.

The 12 (x10) Days of Christmas

Originally published in chewy newspapers on September 3, 2009

Nine hours and thirty seven minutes worth. That's how much new music I loaded onto my iPod on Tuesday - music about snow, bells, stars, and mangers. This has become a rite of passage for me each September 1st, my way of ringing in the first day of the 'ber months. SeptemBER, OctoBER, NovemBER, and DecemBER have their own special vibe. School is in full-swing, weekends are filled with soccer and football, and three of the most fun-filled holidays - Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas are on the calendar. I'm a bit of a holiday-music hypocrite. While I don't want to hear even a single jingle bell from the grocery store sound system before Thanksgiving, I'll joyfully sing along to "Good King Wenceslas" while running to the store for Labor Day picnic supplies.

My holiday music collection is eclectic with a good mix of old and new, sacred and secular. I grew up with the sounds of Perry Como and Bing Crosby echoing from the family HiFi. They remain favorites. I discovered the Rat Pack somewhere along the way so Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis, Jr. round out my collection of classics. My older sisters were fans of The Carpenters and it doesn’t really feel like Christmas until I hear Karen’s achingly beautiful “Merry Christmas, Darling.”

I have another set of favorites from my college years. I matriculated in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains and was there when Amy Grant put out her first Christmas album with “Tender Tennessee Christmas” on it. Hearing that one takes me right back to that beautiful place. College was also where I was introduced to the majesty of choral music. We had a top-notch music program at my school, with several choirs including the all-male one of which I was a member. One year for Christmas, all the choirs combined to sing Handle’s “Messiah.” I remember belting out every single “halleluiah” with heart-felt thanksgiving for both the birth of our Lord and the chance to sing with girls.

Speaking of girls, I met my wife during the ‘ber months. We had our first date in October, got engaged a year later in November, and were married a year after that in December. In the years we were dating, we spent those Christmases apart, each of us with our respective families. A whole new genre of Christmas songs took on new meaning. The pit-of-my-stomach longing while being separated from my wife-to-be gave me a first-hand understanding of what a “Blue Christmas” was all about.

As a child of the 60’s and 70’s the Chipmunk’s were a part of my Christmas-music upbringing. I guess Alvin never got that Hoola Hoop because he’s still asking for one nearly 50 years later. Now my own children and I get to enjoy that one together. Having children brought back a whole new set of Christmas songs into my life - all the ditties that tell the tales of Frosty, Rudolph, and Santa.

I usually jump the gun a bit in the kitchen too. I’ve been known to make a pot of chili or a pumpkin pie when the temperatures can still get up into the 90s and I’m already thinking ahead about our menus for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I’m sure listening to holiday this early isn’t for everyone and that’s just fine with me. You can have your 12 days of Christmas. As for me, I’m going to be enjoying about ten times that many. So for the next few months, if you see me with my headphones on while taking a brisk walk down my street or doing cardio at the gym, or maybe singing in the car when you pull up next to me at a red light, I might just wish you a Merry Christmas and if you invite me to a Labor Day cookout I might bring eggnog.

Dig In: A Taste of Indiana Will Turn it Up to Eleven

If you were to ask me how excited I am about Dig-IN: A Taste of Indiana I would pay homage to Spinal Tap and tell you that on a scale of one to ten, I'm at an Eleven! What is Dig-IN: A Taste of Indiana, you ask? Well, imagine all those other "Taste of..." festivals where T.J. O'Pootertoot's and all the other fern bars in town bring out all their "appeteasers" for everyone to sample. Are you imagining this chain-restaurant nightmare? Well, the upcoming event will be nothing like that. Curious? For more info go here.

White Out: North Alabama Style BBQ

Published in peppery newspapers on August 27, 2009

On a single trip from one end of Indiana to the other you could, if so inclined, feast on lake perch in “da' region” for lunch and then a brain sandwich in Evansville for dinner. These are truly regional dishes because you would be hard presses to find one in the geographic home of the other.

There are lots of factors that contribute to how food traditions develop. One reason has to do with what happened to be available at the time these dishes were first eaten. It doesn't take a degree in food anthropology to figure out that perch showed up on dinner tables in Northwest Indiana because of that giant body of water we call Lake Michigan. Similarly, Southern Indiana's history of hog farming resulted in creative uses for the entire pig, brains and all.

Of course these sorts of regional patterns aren't found only in Indiana. Head to the southeastern United States and you'll find wide variety in the way BBQ is prepared. Much of the difference comes in the style of sauce used. Certain parts of South Carolina are known for a mustard-based sauce. Golden in color and tangy sweet, this sauce finds its way onto pulled pork and chicken. A place called Maurice’s Gourmet BBQ put this mustard sauce on the map.

Travel east a bit to the coastal areas of both Carolinas and the taste is for a thin spiced vinegar sauce. This is one my favorites. Its sourness will make you pucker when slurped up on its own but compliments the fatty richness of pulled pork beautifully. Other parts of the Southeast, like Georgia and Tennessee, do a fine job with BBQ and enthusiasts seem to enjoy the tomato-based sauces with which the rest of the country is familiar. I lived for several years in Chattanooga, Tennessee which is nestled right against both the Alabama and Georgia borders. Drive an hour or two in nearly any direction and you’ll discover distinctive interpretations of BBQ.

I recently discovered yet another sauce that is entirely different than all the others found down South. What makes this style of BBQ even more fascinating is the small geography in which it is found. The epicenter of this BBQ is Decatur, Alabama about 20 miles outside Huntsville. The original white sauce was first served by Big Bob Gibson in 1925. Four generations later the Gibson family is still going strong and their white sauce is more popular than ever. At Gibson’s the white sauce is served with pork, but it is most popular on chicken. At the restaurant, chicken halves are slow-smoked over hardwoods and then dipped in the sauce just before serving. Most diners as more sauce. Gibson’s creamy, tangy, peppery sauce is available for purchase by the bottle at the store and can also be ordered online here.

I recently tried my hand at making some myself and thought the results were pretty spectacular. I served it on smoked chicken breasts but it work well on grilled chicken or even turkey. Here’s my recipe.

North Alabama-Style White BBQ Sauce

• 1 cup mayonnaise

• 3/4 cup cider vinegar

• 1 tablespoon lemon juice

• 1-1/2 tablespoons smoked black pepper*

• 1/2 teaspoon salt

• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne

Whisk together all ingredients, cover, and refrigerate for at least eight hours before using. Smoke or grill chicken halves or pieces. When chicken is ready, pour half the sauce in a shallow dish and place the chicken in the dish, turning to coat. Serve the other half of the sauce so your guests can add more if they desire. 

* this smoked black pepper is my all-time favorite specialty ingredient. It can be ordered by mail from Adriana’s Caravan. You can certainly make this with regular pepper, I just love the extra smokiness added by this product.