Your Guide to Charcoal Grilling.
Your Guide to Grilling.
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We’ve all been there. You nail a brisket. The bark is perfect, the fat is rendered like butter, and your neighbors are calling you a legend. Then, two weeks later, you try to do it again… and it’s dry. You used the same meat, the same BBQ rubs and sauces,
In the world of viral recipes, the Mississippi Pot Roast is king. But for a Northern Michigan pitmaster, “set it and forget it” in a ceramic crockpot is a missed opportunity for flavor engineering. This week in the MI Griller lab, we took this classic to the Weber Kettle using
When the Northern Michigan winter sets in, chili isn’t just a meal—it’s a survival strategy. But in the “Kettle Kitchen,” we don’t just dump ground beef into a pot on the stove and call it a day. We use thermodynamics, gravity, and wood smoke to engineer something entirely different. This
There is a stubborn myth in the outdoor cooking world that you can’t get edge-to-edge pink on a charcoal grill. People think that because charcoal relies on intense radiant heat, you are doomed to a thick, overcooked “gray band” around the edge of your steak by the time the center
Beef Plate Ribs—often called “Dino Ribs”—are the undisputed heavyweights of the barbecue world. They carry the rich, heavily marbled meat of a brisket point, but they sit high on a massive bone. In the heat of summer, smoking these straight through is a test of patience. In the freezing teeth
They call the Chuck Roast the “Poor Man’s Brisket,” but I think that’s a disservice. When treated with the right chemistry and thermal patience, a Chuck Roast isn’t a backup plan—it’s a main event. This weekend, I tackled a 3lb Chuck Roast using the “Midnight Protocol.” This isn’t a quick
In the “Kettle Kitchen,” we don’t use ingredients just because they sound cool on a menu. We use them because they solve a technical problem. I get a lot of questions about my Midnight Coffee Rub and the 48-hour coffee soaks I use for my Chuck Roasts. People ask, “Tom,
There is a specific kind of satisfaction that comes from slicing into a slab of bacon that you’ve managed from raw belly to cured gold. But doing it in Northern Michigan in February, where the “RealFeel” is fighting to stay above zero, turns a standard cook into a technical operation.
It was one of those January nights in Bear Lake where the air feels like it has teeth. I was standing over my 22-inch Kettle, my headlamp cutting through the blowing snow, watching the digital glow of my remote probe. I’d spent forty bucks on a beautiful thick-cut roast, and