Purple blueberry cake: Baking with my son (and Legos) for #SundaySupper

OK, so the title should probably be lavender or perhaps lilac blueberry cake, but it's a work in progress and a deep, rich purple is the goal. I am aiming for a purple like Juana Cocina's blueberry sour cream ice cream, which is out of control gorgeous. And I am aiming to create rich color without using artificial food dyes. But the spectacular color was not to be this time. Oh well. My five (and a half) year old son and I had fun baking this cake. So did some of his Lego friends, especially Captain America who defended us from the flour monster.

This week's theme for #SundaySupper is kids in the kitchen. Getting kids in the kitchen early and getting them involved in making some of their own food is a great idea. It builds basic cooking skills like measuring, reading recipes (my boy isn't there yet, but he will be), some basic math, some nutritional information, but more important it creates a sense of comfort and confidence in a kitchen, like this is a place that you know and feel at home in. The best way to control what and how much you eat is to learn to cook it yourself. Without the confidence built from familiarity, the kitchen can seem intimidating. (I've written about fear in the kitchen before.) Thankfully, my boy won't grow up with that fear. 

I asked him what he wanted to make for this blog post, and he decided he wanted to make a cake and frosting from Williams-Sonoma's The Kid's Cookbook, which has lots of great somewhat simplified recipes (good for adults too) that are almost all made from scratch (which is really important to me; I am afraid I don't much care for "recipes" that start with processed, packaged foods). From the basic recipes in there, we modified them a bit to try to get color into the cake and the frosting. Like I said, I am not ecstatic about how the color turned out and will probably have to try a few more variations until I get it as purple as I want it to be, but it's a tasty cake anyway. (As you will no doubt notice, I am not skilled when it comes to decorating cakes. Perhaps one day I will learn to do better, for now, I'll just muddle through.)

Ingredients

FOR THE CAKE

• butter for greasing the cake pan (about 1 Tbsp)
• flour for the pan (about 2 Tbsps)
• 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 1/2 tsps baking powder
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1/2 cup butter, room temperature
• 1 cup sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1 1/2 tsps vanilla extract
• 1/3 cup pureed frozen blueberries (I really like Wyman's frozen wild blueberries)
• 1/3 cup milk

FOR THE FROSTING

• 12 Tbsps butter, room temperature
• 3 cups confectioner's sugar (sifted)
• 2 Tbsps pureed frozen blueberries, strained
• 2 Tbsps heavy cream
• 1 1/2 tsps vanilla extract
• plus about a cup of blueberry jam for the inside of the cake 

Instructions

FOR THE CAKE

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Then grease and flour an 8-inch springform pan:

Measure flour, baking powder, and salt into a medium bowl and mix it together. Set it aside for now. 

Add sugar and butter to a mixer bowl. Beat with the paddle attachment of your stand mixer until the butter and sugar are creamy. 

Add the eggs and vanilla and continue beating the mix until smooth. Reduce the speed on the machine and add the blueberry puree and the milk. Finally, add the flour mixture. 

Combine everything quickly, but completely, and spread the batter into your springform pan (note, the batter isn't very runny, you will want to smooth it out with a spatula). And, because I trust the farmer who raises my eggs, I let my son sop the pot. (I wouldn't do this with industrial eggs anymore.)

Bake it in the oven for 45 to 50 minutes. When it's done (test for doneness with a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake; if it comes out dry, the cake is done), take it out and let it cool in the pan on a baking rack for 15 minutes. 

Then, get the cake out of the pan and let it cool completely on the baking rack. Go ahead and get out your butter to soften and blueberries to defrost during this time. (My boo and I watched Captain America while it cooled; it was on the fourth of July that we baked this after all.)

FOR THE FROSTING

To make the frosting, puree about a quarter cup of blueberries and strain the puree. I went ahead and poured the heavy cream through the strainer to try and pick up more of the color. 

Add the butter, cream, blueberry puree, vanilla, and confectioner's sugar to your mixer bowl.

Beat until the frosting is fluffy. 

Cut the cake into two layers. Spread a layer of blueberry jam on the bottom layer. Then gently place the top layer onto the bottom layer. Try to line them up as evenly as possible. 

Spread a thin layer of frosting all over the cake. This layer is called the crumb layer and will basically glue down the crumbs. Then spread a thick layer of frosting all over. To make my super fancy border, spoon frosting into a plastic bag, cut a tip off one corner, and push out one little dollop of frosting at a time all around the outside rim of the cake. 

Then invite some friends over to eat it. 

And of course, it wouldn't be #SundaySupper without all the other great meals that my fellow bloggers have put together this week. Check out all these tasty meals that can get your kids in the kitchen:

Start your day:

• Panko Encrusted French Toast Sticks ~Doggie At the Dinner Table 
• Pineapple Not-Upside Down Muffins ~In the Kitchen with Audrey
• Bacon, Egg & Sausage Breakfast Cups ~Daily Dish Recipes 
• Buttermilk French Toast with Homemade Cinnamon – Raisin Bread ~What Smells So Good

Healthy snackers:

• Snack Attack: 3 Healthy Choices for Little Nibblers ~Cindy’s Recipes and Writings
• Fruit Salad in an Orange Cup ~Mama’s Blissful Bites 

Main meal:

• Whole-wheat Pretzel Dogs ~Family Spice
• Poblano Mac ‘N Cheese ~Juanita’s Cocina
• Coconut Chicken and Shrimp ~Super for a Steal 
• Lunie and Mini-me’s Grilled Pizza ~Cravings of a Lunatic
• Hedgehog Meatballs and Chili Dog Pie ~Cooking by the Seat of our Pants
• Walking Tostada ~Shockingly Delicious
• Mini Sausage Rolls ~Small Wallet Big Appetite
• Mini Corn Dog Muffins ~In The Kitchen With KP
• Mexican Black Bean & Quinoa Burgers with Homemade Guacamole ~Cupcakes and Kale Chips
• Threaded Spaghetti Hot Dog Bites ~Damn Delicious
• Golden Potato Patties ~My Trials in the Kitchen 
• Grilled Chicken Wings in Sesame Flavors ~The Queen’s Notebook
• Spaghetti Tacos ~Girlichef
• Parmesan Corn on the Cob ~Home Cooking Memories 
• Yum Yum Salmon  ~Family Foodie
• Pad Thai ~Meal Planning Magic 
• Chicken Tortilla Bake ~Mrs. Mama Hen

Sweet treats:

• Chocolate Slab ~Happy Baking Days 
• Chocolate Chip Cut-Out Cookies ~Chocolate Moosey
• Self-Crust Coconut Pie ~Magnolia Days
• Fresh Cherry Clafoutis ~The Meltaways
• Wolf’s Wonderful Peanut Butter-Brownie Fudge Sundaes ~The Weekend Gourmet
• Cookies and Cream Ice Cream ~The Messy Baker Blog
• Healthy Creamy Caramel Apple Parfaits with Greek Yogurt ~Sue’s Nutrition Buzz
• Chocolate and Salted Caramel Pudding Pops ~Hezzi-D’s Cooks and Books
• Chocolate Cheese Turnover ~Basic and Delicious 
• Chocotorta Vintage Kitchen Notes 
• Oatmeal and M&M Cookies ~That Skinny Chick Can Bake
• Tropical Popsicles ~Pippi’s in the Kitchen Again
• Carrot Cupcakes ~Diabetic Foodie

Our #SundaySupper live chat will start at 3 pm EST. Follow us on twitter by using hashtag #Sundaysupper or using Tweetchat.

My grandmother's pancakes

That's my Icelandic grandmother, or Amma, on the far left in the tweed suit, holding a fur hat in her hand. This picture was probably taken when I was about six or seven, at least 33 years ago. That's me on the far right, in the rust-red pants, brown turtleneck, leg cocked back slightly. Between me and my grandmother are my uncle, his two first children, my grandfather (Afi), and my aunt. I am not sure who stands behind my aunt. This was taken somewhere in Iceland. We are on a picnic. Perhaps we are here to pick blueberries or krækiberjum (crowberries); I imagine we are.


My grandmother's clothes in this photo interest me. She is dressed so well for a trip to a wild meadow surrounded by distant mountains. Did she always dress this nicely when going out, regardless of where she was going? I honestly can't remember. My memories of her only come in bits and pieces now: a glimpse of her through the glass upon landing at the old Reykjavik airport, her bundling me up in a thick woolen Icelandic sweater to keep me warm, the teddy bears she knitted for me, her calling me by my cousin's name when illness had devastated her memory. She had a soft round face with a little peach fuzz on her skin and usually wore her hair in a net. But these memories are so deeply inadequate to suggest a person's life or what she meant to me. Here's my only other photo of her, with me and Afi on a boat in Sweden:

Food memories stand in for much that I've never really known about my grandparents. For example, Afi and Amma always bought a particular brand of chocolate-flavored cereal when I came to visit. I think they bought it just for me, and I loved it. Even though I no longer eat processed cereal, when I smell that particular brand of cereal, and it has a very particular smell, I find myself back at their small kitchen table, eating out of the bowl with the picture at the bottom. I see my grandfather winding up a toy with a key and kneeling down stiffly to set it loose on the kitchen floor. I see all kinds of details about their apartment: the glass doors to the dining room with the etched fish and bubbles, the cuckoo clocks, the couch stuffed with so many decorative cushions no one could sit on it, the blue cot I slept on, the textured concrete of the balcony. Outside was a gray and green world that smelled of fish and harbor. 


Inside fresh, cold air wafted through the lace curtain at an open window, the sounds of traffic rose from the road below, and a huge stack of thin pancakes grew in the kitchen. Now my family calls these pancakes Swedish pancakes. I don't know how or why that happened. I always liked them, the pancakes, but I had no idea they would leave me with such powerful sense memories. In essence, they are thin, sweet crepes with a slightly lemony flavor, but to me they represent memories of Iceland, of the vast banquets of cakes, kleinur, cookies, sweets, and pea and carrot salad on crackers served as just a little afternoon "coffee." We seemed to have these little coffees every day at every relative's house. The pancakes were also served as a special occasion dessert with whipped cream and jam. We had them as picnic food, sprinkling on sugar and rolling them into tubes like cigars. The crunch of the raw sugar at the center of a soft pancake roll makes the memories for me. 

The ingredients are simple enough, but these pancakes take a little practice to get right. It also takes a little experimentation with your equipment. It took me several tries with various spatulas and pans and measures until I found just the right way to make them. They should be very thin with a fine lace edge. They should be browned just right on both sides.

The ingredients:

• 2 medium eggs
• 3 deciliters milk
• 1/8 tsp salt
• 1 Tbsp sugar
• 1.5 deciliters all-purpose flour
• zest of one lemon
• 4 Tbsp butter (divided)

The equipment:

• medium bowl
• balloon whisk
• fine zester
• 1/4 cup measuring cup
• frying pan about 8-9 inches in diameter
• a pastry brush
• a small sauce pan
• a hard spatula that covers at least half the pan.

Now, for some explanations for the equipment choices. Bowl, whisk, zester? Well, what do you think? The size of the measuring cup and the pan, however, do matter. If you just barely fill the measuring cup, you will get the perfect amount of batter to spread across your pan. Pan size also matters. If it is too big, the batter will set before you have time to coat it with batter. Too small, and the pancake will be too thick. With the right size pan and a bare quarter cup of batter, you'll get just the right thickness every time. Spatula size also really matters here, because you want it to support as much as possible of your pancake so that you can easily flip it.  Pastry brush and small sauce pan are for buttering the pan every time you start a new pancake. Don't assume there's going to be enough butter left in the pan; there won't be.

Now, how do you make the pancakes? First off, make the batter: Melt 4 tablespoons butter in a small sauce pan. Mix milk and eggs in your bowl and whisk in 2 tablespoons melted butter (the butter will look curdled because it will get cold in the milk; don't worry about it as long as it's somewhat evenly dispersed). (Leave the remaining butter in the sauce pan on low temperature.) Mix salt, sugar, and flour together and add the flour mixture in batches to the liquid, whisking continuously to avoid lumps (small lumps are not a problem; if you get big ones, you'll probably need to strain the batter). Whisk in the lemon zest. Voila, batter! 

  

Next, make the pancakes. Heat your 8-9 inch frying pan on medium heat. Give it at least five minutes to let it get hot enough and to even out the temperature. Brush the pan with melted butter (just the barest amount to cover the pan, but not pool). It will sizzle a bit. 

Add just slightly less than 1/4 cup of the batter to the pan. Quickly swirl the batter around to coat the pan. If you get a hole or two, don't fret, it will still taste wonderful, just try to cover the pan as evenly as possible. 

Let it cook for about a minute or two. Feel around the edges with the spatula, once you are able to get the spatula under the pancake without tearing it, take a peek at the underside.

When you like the color, get the spatula as far under the pancake as you can and turn it over. You can help a little with your other hand as needed. Also, if it sort of lands in the pan a little folded, all is not lost, you can shake the pan around and straighten out the pancake. Then cook until you like the color on the underside (another minute or two). Transfer the pancake to a plate. Then start from the beginning again: brush the pan with a little bit of melted butter...

It does take a little practice to make them pretty, but even if you rip and tear the first ones, don't worry about it. They will still be good. Serve rolled up with sugar. Serve with maple syrup. Serve with jam and whipped cream. Eat them straight. Or eliminate the sugar in the batter and serve with a savory filling. Just enjoy them. 

Blueberry jam with maple syrup and lemon zest

For some updates on techniques and a recipe for plum-peach jam with basil, click here. 

I haven't posted in a while. For the Independence Day weekend, Mike, Sebastian, and I drove to Auburn Hills, Michigan (a little north of Detroit) to visit Mike's sister, her family, and their dad for the holiday (the drive takes 10 and a half hours; my little boy is a champ!). Instead of cooking and eating good local food, we subsisted mainly on junk food and candy bought at rest stops along the Pennsylvania and Ohio turnpikes, feeling bloated and gross the whole way. (Sebastian, of course, loved this, but the guy is four, so I can't blame him for having tastes geared primarily toward straight-up salt and sugar.) I did have one really excellent meal: My brother-in-law Russ made some amazing fall-off-the-bone ribs and served them with BBQ sauce, grilled corn, and baked beans. We gorged ourselves on these delectable treats and moaned with discomfort for several hours after dinner. It was totally worth it.

Before we left, I had wanted to make a batch of blueberry jam to make sure that the harvest didn't go by without preserving at least some of it, but I ran out of time. I love blueberries. They may be my favorite berry. I am especially fond of wild lowbush blueberries, but they are hard to come by here in Virginia. When I was a kid in Sweden, I spent much of my time roaming around the woods like a small wild animal, getting damp and muddy and pretending I was a hero of some kind: a knight one day, Robin Hood the next. In my long rambles, I discovered treasured spots where wild blueberries grew in great masses, and I spent many hours seated among the plants, plucking berry after berry and savoring each one. I miss my blueberry spots, especially now that I cook. If only I could wander out into the woods and collect and gather blueberries, bring them home, and preserve them for winter. (I was told once that my Icelandic grandfather Sigurdur was a legendary berry picker; he could fill baskets faster than anyone, fingers moving so fast they blurred.)

But I must settle for domesticated highbush berries, which produce larger fruits that are not quite as deeply flavorful (still good, but not magic). Thankfully, one of my favorite farms, Reid's Orchard, grows berries and fruit organically (although they aren't certified), using integrated pest management techniques and caring for their soil and land in a way that will preserve it for the future (and it shows, just take a look at their peaches--they taste and smell as good as they look).

After recovering from the Michigan trip for a few days, I finally made it out of the house to get food on a steamy Thursday. I went to the Herndon farmer's market and decided to get some blueberries from Reid's. I lucked out because they had a lot of them, so I bought six pints. I had had this idea of making jam flavored with maple syrup and lemon zest. Foods from the same area often taste particularly good together--and sugar maples typically live where blueberries grow, so the combination sounded good. Obviously lemons and blueberries violate that principle, but they are good together. The acidity of the lemon just sparks the flavor of blueberries (as lemons do with so many things).

It was actually so hot and humid the day I bought the blueberries that my camera fogged up. 

So here's how I made my blueberry jam with maple syrup and lemon zest. I started with

• 3 liters blueberries, picked over to remove any soft berries, stems, leaves, or anything else you wouldn't want to eat, rinsed, and finally drip-dried for 10 minutes or so (better yet, use a scale, you should have 1.5 kilos of berries) 
• 700 milliliters sugar
• 200 milliliters real maple syrup
• 1 lemon, washed
• 1 tablespoon pectin, mixed with a little water to make a smooth paste

I spread a layer of sugar on the bottom of the pot I planned to use for jamming.

Then I layered blueberries over the sugar, added another layer of sugar, and zested some lemon over the sugar.

At the second layer, I added the maple syrup instead of sugar and zested some more. 

I added more berries and ended with a final layer of sugar and zest. (In other words, one layer of sugar on the bottom of the pot and one to top it all off.)

I covered the berries and sugar with the lid (ants are quite a problem in summer) and let it sit for a little over an hour (you could let it sit up to 24 hours in the refrigerator). Then I set the pot on low heat. At first, not much happened but eventually I could see a rim of liquified berry juice starting to rise around the edges of the pot, followed by a completely wet mass slowly simmering away. (Note that this isn't a project you do quickly, it can take several hours to reach the jelling point. Pick a lazy, rainy day when you aren't going to leave the house to make the jam. Maybe make some bread while you are at it.) 

  

I added the mixture of pectin and water to the pot and let the mass just simmer away. (At one point, I did get a boil over, so I had to turn down the heat a bit. Almost anything that's made with a lot of sugar has a tendency to get feisty if too much heat is applied.) I skimmed regularly. (Once when making jam as a kid, I made the mistake of not skimming. It left the finished product with a very unpleasant, bitter aftertaste. So if you decide to make jam, don't skimp on skimming.) Oh, and here's a tip to ease your skimming: Keep a bowl of cold water near the stove, dip your skimmer into the cold water before you skim, and then clean off the scum in the cold water, and skim again. You will probably want to replace the water from time to time. 

While the mass simmered, I cleaned and sterilized my jars in boiling water. (You can re-use your jars, but you must use new lids every time. The rubber that creates the seal doesn't hold up to multiple uses. You can probably find boxes of lids where you would buy other canning/jamming equipment.)

You can keep the jars in the hot water on low while your jam continues to simmer. Eventually, I started testing my jam to see if it was ready. How to test for readiness? Get a teaspoon of the liquid in the pot and spread it on a plate. Let it cool for a few minutes, and scrape your spoon through the smear on the plate. If the liquid immediately fills in the lines where the spoon scraped through, you are nowhere near done. If the lines don't fill in immediately, but do eventually, you are getting closer but you aren't there yet. If it bunches up into a jelly-like mass, you are ready to go.

When the spoon scrapes through, the liquid immediately refills the line. This is nowhere near done. 

The liquid isn't filling in as quickly now. The white of the plate shows just a little longer. Progress, but not done. 

The liquid no longer fills in where the spoon has scraped through, and you can create a little clump of jelly. Finished!

When the jam had reached the point where it was finished, I added the juice from the lemon (both for flavor and to help preserve the jam). (I strained it to make sure I wasn't adding seeds.) Then the next step was to add the jam to my warm and clean jars, close up the jars, and boil the jars to vacuum seal them. 

One thing to remember when you add the jam to the jars: Always leave at least an inch of space at the top of the jar. Otherwise, you won't be able to create an effective vacuum. And the vacuum is one of the main reasons that these jars will last for up to year. (That is, if you don't eat them before then. I am almost out of the strawberry jam I made already!)

I've wrapped my jars in newspaper because I don't have a rack to keep the jars stable (yet). 

Ah, pride and joy!

Update: To make sure your jams and jellies are safe to eat, check out the National Center for Home Food Preservation. 

Once upon a midsummer's night's ribs

Once upon a midsummer night cheery, I thought to myself, "Oh deary,
"I have yet to think of a dinner for,
"The midsummer night's feast that comes a'creeping,
"The luscious fruits of which we must have more,
"The roasted meats upon which we will feast, evermore."

All right, all right, wrong midnight creeping, I know, but I thought it was funny. So I'm easily amused.

Obviously, I wanted to do something with A Midsummer Night's Dream, but it was hard. All that came to mind was some sort of "pork-butt-Bottom the Weaver" kind of joke and a "what the Puck." I couldn't make it all come together. At least not quickly, and I do want to get this post out before Midsummer Night's Eve.

OK, OK, so technically the summer solstice was yesterday, but they won't be celebrating Midsummer Night's Eve in Sweden until this Friday, so I think we're good. This is a story of some amazing pork ribs that I highly recommend grilling for a midsummer night feast or the fourth of July or any other summer-y celebration. Heck, these would be good in winter, and nothing beats tending a grill in wild weather. But here's fair warning: Grilling ribs right takes a lot of time. You want at least three hours on the grill, and more is better. Why? Ribs have a lot of cartilage, which is tough connective tissue. It takes a long time before it melts, but when it does, you have tender, juicy meat heaven. (Apologies to my vegetarian friends; these ribs make me quite the savage.)

First, here are some notes about my grilling setup. I use a Weber kettle grill with charcoal. Lump charcoal, not briquettes (I don't like the way they burn and I believe they leave a chemical aftertaste in the food). So if you have a gas grill, you might want to check out a book on grilling to get more info about how to do this with your equipment. Steve Raichlen's BBQ USA has been a good source for me.

I start by applying a dry rub to a four-pound slab of ribs from Haskins Family Farm (if you know me at all, this is obvious; I like the family, I like their attitude about farming, and I love their products). A dry rub is a blend of salt, sugar, and spices that you rub on meat and leave on for a few hours. This is my blend (and it makes a lot, so that you can either double the amount of ribs or use about half of the rub and set the rest aside for another time):

3/4 cups salt
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
2 Tbsp dried mustard
2 Tbsp paprika
2 Tbsp cumin
2 Tbsp coriander
1 tsp black pepper

This deviates quite a bit from Alton Brown's formula of 8 parts sugar, 3 parts salt, plus 2 parts spices/flavorings, which is a great formula, so if you want to come up with your own blend (and I highly recommend doing so), go ahead and use that.

Lay the ribs out on a baking sheet with some paper towels underneath and rub big handfuls of your blend all over the meat (both sides). Set it aside for at least two hours, but you could probably leave these overnight (if you have a refrigerator that will accommodate. I don't, so I put the pan in a nice cool spot where the dog can't reach the ribs. You don't really have to worry about any bacteria buildup because of the high salt and sugar content of the rub).

Now, while those sit and soak up flavor, make the mop (you can also do this a day or two ahead if you'd like). A mop, in grilling terms, is basically any liquid goodness that you smear on the rubs while they are cooking (others may call it barbecue sauce, but because this is grilling not barbecuing, I try to call it a mop; also, I like the word mop). This mop uses blueberries, but almost any juicy summer fruit will work well (fruit and pork are just so happy together). These are the ingredients:

2 Tbsp olive oil
1 medium to large onion, finely chopped
1 1/2 cup frozen (wild) blueberries (I prefer frozen here because the freezing process breaks down the cell walls and lets the juices flow freely)
3/4 cup light soy sauce
5 garlic cloves, crushed
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 Tbsp ketchup (optional, but it can add to the tang)
3 Tbsp sherry vinegar (you can replace this with cider vinegar or red wine vinegar, but you may want to increase the amount to 4 tablespoons because sherry vinegar is typically very strong)

Heat the oil in a pot and add the onions. Let them caramelize over low heat (takes about 10 minutes). If they burn slightly, it's not a disaster. If they burn a lot, you'd better start over. The bitterness of slightly burnt onions actually adds to the flavor.

 
Then add the rest of the ingredients and let them simmer over low heat for at least an hour. Don't forget to stir occasionally so it doesn't stick to the bottom. The blueberries will partially fall apart; you can buzz the sauce in a blender if you'd prefer it to be smoother, but I don't usually worry about it. If you are using fruit like cherries, peaches, or anything with some skin, you may want to peel the fruit first or strain out the skins.

About three hours and 40 minutes before you want to eat the ribs, start the grill. It takes about half an hour to get the coals going when you use charcoal. By the way, I finally got myself a chimney starter for the coals, and it's fantastic. It does away with having to use chemicals to start the fire (which may affect the flavor), and it's surprisingly efficient.

When your coals are hot, pile them all on one side of your grill. When you grill food for  a long time, you use indirect heat; otherwise you end up burning your food to a crisp, and what a shame that would be. Place the meat on the side of the grill where the coals aren't and close the lid (make sure the vents are open so the fire gets some oxygen). The shape of a kettle grill ensures that the hot air circulates around the meat (it basically works a lot like an oven). You can use wood for smoking as well (I didn't the last time I made these ribs because I find the smoke to be a bit overpowering sometimes). If you do use smoking wood, make sure to soak it in water for at least half an hour before adding it to the coals.

Now, let the fire do most of the work. Every half hour, turn the ribs and mop them with your sauce. Be generous with the mop. Every hour, add about 12 fresh coals to the fire (and smoking wood if you are using it). Just keep doing this for three hours or more. Eventually, the slow heat will dissolve the cartilage in the ribs that can make them so tough. You will also notice that a lot of fat will melt off and the bones will start to poke out. If the bones are turning black, you can wrap them in tin foil. After at least three hours of this treatment, take the ribs off the grill and let them rest for 10 minutes before serving. The ribs will be unbelievably tender and so good you will want to suck every ounce of meat off them.

In the immortal words of the Animaniacs, "Helloooo nurse!"

Serve with potato salad and salad. Or with baked potatoes (you can do these on the grill as well if you like) and sour cream and salad.