Pork pulling subtleties are lost on many a young man, as they were on me years ago. If you put some pulled pork in front of me, I ate it, dead stop. As for making it, the idea that there might be technique involved was absurd to me. “Get some pork, smoke it and pull it. Then feed me.”
With age, though, came an understanding of the subtleties of pork, pulled or otherwise. The wood smokes, the sauces, the tender porky magic in every half-pound pile that lies on a paper plate, staining it with grease and making mouths water. And once you dig into the heart of the pork, you’ll find it’s made differently everywhere, and sauced differently too.
North Carolina alone has a sauce ideology split that tears families apart: both may be vinegar-based, but Western NC-style adds tomato sauce (or, um, ketchup) to the recipe. But that’s what makes trying every damn BBQ shack I come across so worthwhile. The divergent techniques may bring life-changing minutes of porcine pleasure from one purveyor and a nightmare of poorly treated pig from one just down the block. That is the beauty of pulled pork; that is the curse of pulled pork.
The Weber Smokey Mountain. One of which I do not have, leaving me feeling small and weak.
So recently, when I found myself staring at some tasty looking un-pulled pork roasts in the butcher department at my local Publix, I realized the time had come to become a pork-man. Or at least a pork-adolescent: pulled pork is best prepped by smoking it (in a smoker, not a bong. Although…), and I’m ashamed to admit that I do not own a smoker.
However, there were advantages to being hobbled without the right tools for the job: I’d have to figure out how to do this in a way that pretty much anyone could recreate, and I wouldn’t have to wait a day to actually eat the pig. Really, 24 hours is an eternity to someone who, like me, gets the sweats in the middle pork withdrawal.
So I decided to cop myself a hearty Boston Butt. Boneless was my choice, but you can argue that out amongst yourselves. I had the butcher cut me some fresh piggy since there was only bone-in butt (settle down, settle down) on display. You did know you can do that, right? Just tell the fellow in the bloody apron holding a cleaver what it is that you want and they’ll get it for you. Within reason.
I ran around copping missing spices and other ingredients while my pork was being prepped, then grabbed an ice cold Red Bull from the fridge at checkout to get me fired up for what I was going to be tackling.
At home, and vibrating on caffeine and taurine (is that actually from bulls?) I preheated the oven to 325 and made myself a batch of my barbecue dry rub – the ingredients are flexible (that’s what BBQ is all about, after all), the ones I used appear at the end of this article.
I unwrapped my butt (man, that just doesn’t get old, does it?) and gazed upon its beauty. The butcher had left a thick flap of fat on the bottom some of which I trimmed off. A quick word of advice here: if you trim one of these things off, try to resist the desire to playfully toss it at your significant other so that it adheres to his or her face and neck.When the screaming died down I did a quick rinse and dry of the butt, then rubbed it well with my dry rub. A bit of vegetable oil (do me a favor and don’t embarrass us all by trying the whole “heart smart” thing and using olive oil) went into my Dutch oven followed by my pork, which I browned well on all sides. Then I covered it and put it in the oven for three hours.
While that was working, I made a batch of my homemade barbecue sauce (tomato-based: sorry, mustard-based fans), then set it aside until porky was done.
After three hours that seemed like an eternity, I pulled the pork from the oven and unveiled the results. There was a lot of liquid in there, much of which was fat, and some of which I drained. Stabbing and pulling with a pair of forks shredded the cooked pork nicely, thank you very much, though it took longer than it should have, what with the constant stopping and shoveling of pork into my big pork-devouring face.
I added a bit of the sauce to the pot, but not much so as to avoid over saucing, then put the rest in a gravy boat (yes, I have a gravy boat but no smoker), piled pork high onto a bunch of plates and turned my family loose onto it.
We stopped when we could no longer form coherent sentences.
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Seriously, son. A meastist – in SoFla – OK, even a Yankee meatist – who doesn’t own a grill on which to throw copious amounts of wet and dry wood (or dry charcoal), and cover it with a lid of some ilk?
Your “oven roasted” oinker may have satisfied your prissy pulled pork needs, but will never suffice in the real world of ‘cue and beyond. Come South with that mouth, and man up to a firepit with smoke – that’s it! – then we might let you call it pulled pork.
Right now, it’s just another way to slice a pork roast with rub.
Pulled Pork is a sacrosanct term and means a very specific tender, smoked all day, rubbed or dry – but definitely fire kissed meat to we who still stand up when they play Dixie.
Hey – I pulled it, and it was pork. I have tried smoking on a standard grill, which I DO have, but even using soaked wood chips and fireboxes, the results weren’t what I was hoping for.
Which is why I need me a smoker, I’m well aware missy. Many of the apartment-dwelling Yanks I grew up with have no way to smoke meat (unless they use a bong or something, which would be fairly gross), so I’m gonna say it was a worthwhile experiment. Plus, I got to write a story about it. So there.
(I’d still pass up the oven-made style for good smoked pork any day of the week, though – just in case you think I’m insane)
Hi, glad to see you, by the gracious introduction of Jan Norris.
I have no smoker. I am a southerner and last summer I found the way to somewhat serious pulled pork the easy way. Dry rubbed the pork with my secret rub, put wrapped in fridge for at least 24 hour or overnight. Cooked in the slow cooker for about 7-8 hours, Take the meat out of cooker. Have presoaked wood chips ready, I use hickory, wrap them in three foil packets punch holes in packet and put on grill on high. When the nose is right wrap the pork in foil, punch holes, and place on gas grill on low surrounded by woodchip packets. Cook on low about an hour. or untill your nose cannot wait any longer. Take off grill sauce to your desire and serve…whohooo! sauce, rub, and other seasonings still my secret..Thanks, easy. Welcome to the local blog world. Thanks Jan
Now that’s something I could try, though Jan will take you to the proverbial woodshed as she did me if you try an pass it off as pulled pork.
Does it really give enough of a smokey taste?
[...] the lower part (the upper part is commonly called the Boston butt and is the cut I used for my oven-based BBQ). I’d been wanting to work with a half picnic for a while, and not just because of the low, [...]