I found my way into this by the promise of a free lunch, or really a series of free lunches. After a trip down to sunny Syracuse, NY, home of
Dinosaur Bar-B-Que, I found myself wondering how the hell their barbecue was so good. So good I couldn't stop thinking about it. Where do I find some more of this? Do they even have barbecue like that in Toronto?
Google: Barbecue Competition Canada. Turns out there was a competition in Barrie, ON and they were looking for 'qualified' judges. No prob.
Chosen by the clandestine committee who-knows-who I would be one of these judges! Along side of many other
qualified ladies and gentlemen I filled my boots - three times a day, every two hours for two days straight. I even went out for wings after the first night (mistake.) One of the oldest judges mused on this idea of the free lunch: "We spend about $6,000 a year traveling around the country to barbecue competitions for about $300 worth of free meat. I should have chosen a cheaper hobby." Clearly he and his wife love it, so no harm no foul. But, free it ain't.
After my first year judging I was pretty stoked and thought I might try my hand at it. $50 later I was signed up for the next year's amateur competition up there in Barrie. I placed 8th out of 13, it poured rain nearly all day and I cooked the living shit out of my ribs. Think bone-in jerky. I was fortunate enough to share drink with the youngest member of
Team Cedar Grilling, the overall champs. I got a few good tips* but remained pretty dejected and didn't compete or even judge the next year. If I was going to compete ever again, I'd better get my shit together.
By the summer of 2010 the competition had changed names, moved venues and become what is now the
Beach BBQ and Brews Festival in Toronto. I paid my $50 with that near complete failure in the back of my mind. But hey, this was my 'hood and I wasn't about to take this lying down, right? I bought
a new smoker, tried out different woods, new rubs and all sorts of sauces and honed my craft. No more failures.
(Spoiler alert: No more wins either.)
The event had become smaller by at least half and there was no longer a pro competition. The am comp was a small group of probably 12 or so, set up off to the side of the much larger rib fest. I set up my sawhorse and my smoker behind one of the vendors who swore by peach wood. His name escapes me. He has a peach wood guy. Secret contact. If I wanted some, I'd have to get it through him, you know how it is. He was kind enough to share a styrofoam takeout tray of his stellar ribs (esp. considering they were from the night before!) and a nice chunk of peach wood for my fire. I have no idea if the peach wood did anything for me at all, but who can say for sure?
My ribs turned out about 1,000 times better than my previous attempt. Maybe my best ever, but again - who can say for sure? I turned 'em in along with my friend Dave Laing who'd never competed, or even really made
real barbecue ribs before. He dragged a friend's propane grill from a good kilometre away and set it up for indirect cooking. Well, his ribs were pretty damn good! So good he took 4th place - no prize but a great showing for his first time out. I took 3rd, another no prize placing but better than my first time. Confidence somewhat restored, I will compete again this year and god damn it I'll do my best to take home the big prize - a brand new grill I probably don't need or have room for.
There's something about competition barbecue, something about doing your best and making those five or six perfect ribs for the judges. I know they're just regular people with regular palates, likes and dislikes, but on competition day they're more. They sit in the great pantheon of barbecue and critically inspect the offerings. Elevated, if only for an afternoon. Win or lose, a barbecue competition is a great place to meet like-minded folk, people who obsess about barbecue and shoot the shit with 'em. It's a great time and I'd recommend it to anyone who's tasted real barbecue because if you're lookin' to find it, that's where it's going to be.
