Before we get started, let me state up front that I understand that the technical definition of "barbecue" is cooking meat slowly with smoke. So, all you purists can just put down your poison-tipped tongs, OK?

That said, we all know that in the world of barbecue there exist perfectly savory 'cue creations that have little or nothing to do with wood smoke. It has been my pleasure of late to sample a couple.

Where's The Fire?

I was invited out by the Burnsville Volunteer Fire and Rescue squad to attend their annual barbecue, and since the only time I turn down free barbecue is if I'm busy cooking my own, I enthusiastically assented. Melody Sikes, a charming young woman with a personality that could cheer up a stormcloud, was my contact, and after a pleasant drive through the countryside outside Charlotte, I pulled up to the fire hall.

As I stepped from my truck, the first thing I noticed was the absence of wood smoke in the air. Well, I figured, this is a pretty big shindig. They might well have cooked the 'cue elsewhere and brought it in. I soon learned that wasn't the case and had my eyes opened to a whole new way to handle pork butts and the occasional chicken.

The Burnsville barbecue, you see, is a big operation. The whole area pitches in, with almost two tons of pork and 650 chickens giving their all to feed the crowd, as well as customers of local grocery stores. Twice a year, they fire up huge gas cookers and slow-cook all this meat to succulent perfection. The flavor comes from a rub that, try as I might, I was unable to decode. The second half of the flavor equation is the sauce, which is a story in itself.

Like most good sauces and rubs, the sauce recipe is a secret. In this case, it's a quarter century-old secret held by two couples: Robert and Carolyn Gaddy and Leonidas and Susie McSwain. I was privileged to meet both the men, and Leonidas promised me that I could have the recipe ... if I could decipher it off his tombstone. These folks are serious about their sauce, and they've got a right to be.

You see, in North Carolina there is a schism in the 'cue community over what sort of sauce should be ladeled over the meat. In the eastern side of the state, you'll find tangy vinegar sauces that usually have a healthy touch of spice to them. In the west, you'll find a tomato-vinegar concoction that is more often on the sweet or smoky side. In the Burnsville sauce, matter and antimatter meet and produce a sauce I could drink with a straw.

Truly amazing ... without a touch of wood smoke, they produced barbecue that I would be proud to serve to anyone. I'll never give up my Brinkmann pit, but I'm not above slapping a pork butt in the slow cooker with a little powdered mustard and brown sugar rubbed on it, and a little good Worcestershire drizzled in, and making my own version of the Burnsville creation.

Oh, and did I mention dessert? Each firefighter is responsible for rustling up two desserts from local cooks and bakers, and I could have spent the rest of my life happily touring the dessert table. I was even allowed to sample the walnut cookies baked by Violet Thomas, which are such prized sweets that one must know the right people to be privy to their location. If you've ever had Keebler's Pecan Sandies, picture those done with walnuts, but with a flavor so much richer and more complex that I'm already regretting that comparison.

And the whole shebang is for a good cause, of course, to raise money for the fire department, which provides fire and EMS service for a large area. When I was there, they were just putting the finishing touches on a brand-new fire hall paid for with barbecue funds.

I can't wait to go back ... hope they'll have more cookies.

Rack 'Em Up

Ribs are one of the bugaboos of most barbecue chefs. As I was once told by a longtime 'cue cooker here in Gastonia who refused to touch baby backs, "You've either got the rib knack, or you don't. If you don't, you're wasting money buying 'em."

I'll confess that I've never had the knack. I've tried various methods, and while I've gotten pretty good flavor sometimes and meat that fell off the bone other times, I've never quite hit a home run with both at once.

That streak ended last weekend, thanks to the fine ribs from Spring House Meats and the Rib Kit from Williamson House Sauce. The kit comes with the most clearly written, easy-to-follow directions I've ever seen for producing top-shelf baby backs, a packet of rub that I'd like to buy by the pound, and a small bottle of their traditional red sauce.

The sauce is amazingly good, with subtle hints of spice underneath the tomato base. I'm not usually a big fan of tomato-based sauces, but this one's a winner and deserving of space on any 'cue-laden table.

The real hit of the collection for me, though, is the Spicy Vinegar Sauce. I think it's affected my brain, as I can't even write about it now without my mouth beginning to water. For Eastern Carolina-style barbecue fans, or anyone who likes a sauce with a serious zing but plenty of flavor, this is the sauce to get. Heck, it's even good for dipping french fries, if you're one of those folks (like me) who reach for a bottle of malt vinegar when presented with a fresh batch.

The Williamson House folks kindly granted me permission to print their rib recipe here, but I'll go you one better and lead you to their how-to video.

One note: Some of you are going to freak out at the notion of putting plastic wrap around something that's going in the oven. Believe me, I had my qualms, too. However, they were laid to rest completely when I saw the ribs as I unwrapped them. The plastic simply seals in every bit of juicy goodness, without adding the piquant tang of melted petrochemicals to the finished product.

It turns out there are actually several rib methods, one credited to a certain toothpaste-hawking Food Network chef, that involve using plastic wrap this way. It's all about "low and slow" cooking.

So go, watch the video. Get the Rib Kit. Make the ribs. Eat. Repeat.

Oh, and for my fellow butt, shoulder and whole hog smokers (and my Texas brisket friends, too), the rub is outstanding for those purposes. In fact, I've got a shoulder going in the pit tomorrow that will be adorned with it. You'll even love it on grilled chops and chicken.

Got a question? Comment? Topic you'd like to see covered? Drop me a line, anytime!