It sounds more fun that it is really.
I had planned on spending Sunday smoking a pork butt. For some reason a pork shoulder roast is also called a pork butt. Don’t ask please I have no clue why. Unfortunately the weather forced me to make other plans. Instead of spending the day producing wonderful meat candy I was staring morosely out the window watching paper, plastic, small pets, and compact cars sailing by in a horrific windstorm. A red flag warning and small pet advisory is not optimal conditions for firing up the old Weber.
Monday morning dawned clear and with a light breeze but guess who has two thumbs, a job and a large hunk of porcine goodness that needed some hot loving, and a good application of smoke. Yea that would be Ikce, and it was looking like a long night for me.
I got home from work and fired up the grill, soaked some apple wood chips and settled in the garage for the long haul. It was cold last night. The sunny 70 degree weather of the week before had been blown out and replaced by 40 degree temps. Once the sun set the temps started falling. Jonette was with me holding vigil over the process of long low heat and basting every 45 minutes. By 8pm she gave up and retreated to the warm confines of the house. I also took refuge but needed to keep that 45 minute time schedule to check the temp, baste the roast and add more apple wood chips.
The targets I am looking for are as follows.
Indirect heating, cooking temperature between 220 and 275 and an internal roast temperature of 190 degrees.
Everything was going well till around 11 or so when the roast hit 144 degrees. At the time I had no idea that some strange form of equilibrium had been reached. Jonette completely gave up and went upstairs to bed. I stayed on the couch with a timer set for every 45 minutes so I could attend to the roast. Yoshi kitten was very pleased and spent the time curled up on my chest purring loudly. She did not even care when I was forced to dump her onto the floor every 45 minutes. I would check the meat, reset my alarm, laydown and Yoshi would jump back up to purr like a mad cat.
By around 1:30 the roast temp was still 144, and I decided to also give it up. I preheated the oven to 350 and prepared a roasting pan. That was when Jonette came downstairs and said “Why don’t you just put it in the oven” I pointed at my preparations and said “Way ahead of you.” Jonette then took over the cooking process and sent me up to bed after I brought the roast in and put it in the oven.
You know those great smells that can fill a house? A fresh cut Christmas tree? Baking cinnamon rolls, cookies, or bread. I got that but it was classic BBQ, there is no better smell in the universe. This morning I had a wonderfully cooked pork butt, juicy on the inside, a pink smoke ring about ½ inch into the meat and a crispy outside texture.
I may be dead on my feet this morning but one taste and it is all worth it.