The Test

The neophyte "pit boss" emerged from the bunk house at the crack o' 6:30 yesterday morn to launch his fabled pork rib odyssey.

Dry rub (black pepper, granulated garlic, salt, and a touch of red pepper) had been lovingly worked into the racks and they fairly begged for the sauna effect of the steel smoker.

The ranch hand kindled the oak that had gently seasoned for three years and patiently (not!) waited for the pit to even out at 225 savory degrees.

Slapped them puppies in the place of honor and let 'em bask for five hours (low and slow) and then wrapped them in "tin foil" and continued the culinary journey for five more hours (low and slow).

Gently eased the 'cue prizes from their hazy haven and slid them into an insulated cooler to allow them the dignity of "resting" in private as their juices redistributed for an hour.

Then came THE TEST (drum roll).

Laid the precious protein in front of the bride's whole fam damily and watched the results?

Bottom line: wasn't nuthin left but white bones that looked like they had been bleached in a desert for a century after the marrow was sucked out!!!!

Ah, success is a sweet wine, best savored with an audience.