The Summer of Ribs: Part 2 of 4

The baby back ribs I cooked after writing last week's column were spectacular.

I used the 3-1-1 method described in the column, but instead of traditional seasonings, I went with a Cuban-style marinade I picked up at the Medina Square Farmers Market. I marinated the ribs for an hour before cooking, then added a bit of Dizzy Pig's Jamaican Firewalk rub to keep the island theme going. After three hours of smoke, I used fresh-squeezed lime juice and a touch of honey as the braising liquid during the one-hour wrapped stage. They weren't the traditional, sugary, tomato-based ribs that most folks around here are accustomed to, but they were absolutely delicious.

In Part 2 of my four-part series, I wanted to discuss the cultural importance of ribs as we approach America's 250th birthday.

Barbecue ribs are a deeply rooted ritual that represents the ultimate American comfort food and a staple of summer cookouts, holidays and community gatherings. American barbecue is a blend of Indigenous pit-cooking methods, European slow-roasting techniques and African culinary traditions. Barbecue ribs truly tell the story of America's diverse cultural roots.

Barbecue also carries strong regional identities. From the sweet, tomato-based ribs of Memphis and dry-rubbed styles throughout the South to the simply seasoned, post oak- or mesquite-smoked ribs of Texas, each variation reflects local history, culture and ingredients.

The beauty of barbecue, especially pork ribs, is that you can borrow from the past using tried-and-true techniques, then put your own spin on things to create something new every time. You can have a lot of fun with ribs, and experimentation should be part of the journey.

My own barbecue journey began during my early years in Cincinnati. Fresh out of college, I met my future wife, who invited me to her apartment for dinner. She made a slab of saucy, beer-braised ribs in the oven that were simply perfect. I had never tasted ribs that good before. I figured that if I wanted to keep up with her, I had better elevate my own cooking game.

Every Saturday morning, I shopped at Cincinnati's Findlay Market, where I talked meats and barbecue techniques with an old Argentine butcher who specialized in beef, several old-school German butchers who dealt exclusively in pork and a handful of others who were generous enough to share their secrets.

My favorite memory from those days is a warm, sunny Saturday in early spring when I returned from the market with two of the thickest slabs of baby back ribs you've ever seen, purchased from the German butchers. In the side alley of the four-story duplex where we lived, I cooked them low and slow on a Weber kettle over indirect charcoal, using the mopping and sopping techniques taught to me by the Argentine butcher.

After slicing the ribs, I finished them with a smear of "La Junta" sauce – a mixture of jalapenos, onions and garlic slowly simmered in olive oil, then reduced with Burgundy wine and heavy cream. Those ribs, paired with that sauce, converted our next-door neighbor from a vegetarian into a meat eater. After enduring the incredible aromas all day, she simply couldn't resist. She later went on to become one of Cincinnati's most beloved chefs.

There are countless ways to cook ribs, and they can all be great if you put time, love and attention into the process. Enjoy the journey!

As always, I urge you to eat fresh, dine local and be happy!