Childhood memories hard to top, even with hickory-smoked ribsBy Dave Ross
Whenever I think about barbecued ribs, I think about my mother and my first trip to a genuine Southern BBQ joint, Minneapolis style.
Mom had taken me to an appointment across town, which required about an hour of bus travel. Back then we didn’t have a car, so we made every trip count—kind of a ‘50s version of multi-tasking.
On this trip we had completed our business and just missed the return bus. Mom decided we should have dinner before going home rather than just waiting for the next bus.
After walking a few blocks we turned a corner and went into the Plantation BBQ. It was across the street from the old Nicollet Ballpark, venue of the hometown team, the Minneapolis Millers, before the Twins.
As we walked through the door of the long, narrow room, we were greeted by the wonderful aroma of hickory-smoked pork ribs. There was a long counter down the left side of the room and rickety old, wooden booths down the right.
Out of the kitchen walked an elderly gentleman. He greeted us with a smile and a friendly, “Hi, Mae--how you been?”
Mae was my mother, and it was the first time I had ever met this man. It was also the first time I had ever met a Black person. I recall he had huge hands and warm, friendly eyes.
We slid into one of the booths, and my mother and the gentleman visited while I looked at all the names carved into the tabletop.
After a few minutes the man’s wife walked out of the kitchen carrying two large trays with big slabs of ribs, French fries and coleslaw. Because it was early and we were the only customers, the man and his wife joined us while we ate.
I think they took some pleasure watching me clean that tray and polish those bones. If the best compliment paid a cook is a clean plate, I certainly paid him mine.
The Plantation closed when the old ballpark was torn down, and I’m sure the proprietor and his wife have long since died, taking their recipes with them.
A small sequel came a few years ago when I went back to Minneapolis for my mother’s funeral. After leaving the cemetery we went back to my sister’s house to reminisce. It was interesting that she, my brother and all the grandkids shared stories of Mom taking them out for ribs.
Memories are wonderful things. Do you suppose today’s kids will have such fond recollections of their first trip to McDonalds?
Hickory Smoked BBQ Ribs
2 whole slabs of pork spare ribs (remove the papery skin from the back of each slab by pulling off)
Dry Rub Mix
1 cup light brown sugar
½ cup sweet paprika
2 tsp. celery seed
1 tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. onion powder
1 tsp. cayenne pepper
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. chili powder
Mix all of the dry ingredients together in a glass bowl. Sprinkle generously over both sides of the ribs. Wrap the ribs tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least two hours.
Soak chunks of hickory wood in water. Use only hickory for the sweet smoke flavor. It is available at Barbecues Galore.
Set up your grill or smoker for indirect cooking. Use enough charcoal to last three hours. After the coals are lit, move them over to one side of the grill and top with several pieces of the soaked hickory.
Place the top grill on your cooker and put the ribs (unwrapped, of course) on the side of the grill opposite the fire.
Cover the grill and set the air dampers until you have a grill temperature from 250 to 275 degrees.
If you fire is too hot, the sugar in the rib will burn and the smoke will be bitter.
What you want is a long, slow cooking time to allow the smoke to flavor the ribs.
After about an hour baste the ribs with the leftover rub mixture missed with a little apple juice or water. Add more hickory and coals, if necessary. Replace the cover and continue smoking.
You will know the ribs are done when they are very tender and the meat has pulled back from the bone, about 2½ hours.
If you are one of those people who must have sauce, you can brush on your favorite for the last 15 minutes.
The recipe will produce some excellent ribs. Are they as good as those served at the old Plantation BBQ? Let’s just say that, no matter how good these may be, it’s hard to top the magic of childhood recollections.
