One of the things that has attracted me to BBQ as a style of cuisine is that it is simple. I've talked with folks about this off and on over the years. The most recent discussion along these lines I had was with my Dad when he and my Mom and youngest brother were in town a couple of weeks ago. We had my inlaws over as well to celebrate my daughter's birthday and her requests for birthday dinner were hot dogs and pulled pork.
So as I was getting the pork shoulder ready to go in the smoker my Dad and I were talking about food (one of his favorite topics along with stocks, gas prices and the weather) and he made an off handed comment about people overly complicating food. I that is one of the things I loved about barbecue. It's simple and really just requires patience and time.
This got me to thinking a bit more about food in general. Most of the things I REALLY like are not too high up on the food complexity scale. I'll usually take spaghetti and meatballs over scampi, fried chicken over coq au vin or scrambled eggs over Eggs Benedict. It's not that I don't like or appreciate the latter dishes in each pairing, but generally speaking I prefer the simpler dishes. I think this is mostly driven by the joy I find in preparing food for myself and others. The chances of me ever making anything that involves things like wine reduction or truffle oil are close to zero. Meanwhile every piece of fried chicken I ingest I not only get to enjoy, but I get to figure out what parts I really like and apply them to my own preparation. I guess it's a delicious bonus that keeps on giving!
Sometimes I even wonder if the people that say they want and like the fancy, exotic, off-the-wall stuff are being honest, or if they are trying to show off in some way by telling the world what an exquisite palate they have. I have seen this behavior most consistently when we order pizza as a group at any job I've been at. I'm a big fan of the cheese pizza, or something with one or two toppings, like pepperoni, or sausage, or maybe some feta or mushrooms. Pretty simple, straightforward, tasty stuff. And with just one or two items I get to enjoy the flavors I'm in the mood for without having a cacophony in my mouth.
Meanwhile a lot of my co-workers head straight for the specialty or gourmet section of the pizza menu. So we usually end up with 1 or at most 2 of the more mundane run of the mill pizzas and 3 or 4 or more or the fancy pants foo-foo pizza.
Now, and I don't mean to go off on a rant here, but this wouldn't bug me so much if the people that ordered the fancy crap actually ate the fancy crap. But NOOOOOOOOOOO, the pretentious cocksuckers head right for the pepperoni pizza and all grab a couple of slices of that and, maybe, grab one piece of the stuff off the gourmet side of the menu. So by the time the folks that wanted a nice, simple, tasty pizza get to the table, the chances of them getting what they asked for are right around zero. However, there seems to be plenty of the pizza left that is topped with wilted yak penis sauteed in a white wine reduction and a hint of snail entrails.
Somewhere along the way eating, like almost everything else we as a society do, has become as much about image and advertising what a wonderful, complex, complete and fully functioning individual you are as it is about fueling your body and enjoying something delicious with people you care about. If you really like the yak penis and snail entrails, by all means order them and enjoy them. But for all you folks that say you like the exotic stuff but look like a kid taking cough medicine while you eat it, take a
good look at what you really like. It's OK to like simple food. Really.
Simple is good.
