Eat The Pink

Posted By Guest Blogger: abestis

As a guest blogger, you feel some liberation in what you are able to do. More to the point, you feel OK talking about things you otherwise wouldn't. This being the Lounge, there is not much that is off limits. That being said, due to the graphic nature of the following post, I realize some may be offended by my words. Its not my blog, so that’s OK with me.

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. Some of you may already have inferred the direction of this post from its title. Certainly the men in the audience know what I’m talking about and perhaps some of the women do as well (God bless those of you who do). For my money (yes, sometimes I pay for it), there is almost nothing better than eating the pink. The juicier, the better, I say. When I go down for the pink, more often than not I come up with my face wet and smiling with a sweet sheen of enjoyment. If I’m planning ahead, I’ll make sure I have a wet nap or towel handy to clean up afterwards. Tidy and anal, yes (though that is a different post). Not to brag, but in the good times, I’ve done it days in a row and even multiple times a day.

In fact, I ate the pink the other night…twice.

My wife didn’t even seem to mind (though she did think I made a pig out of myself). I don’t really care what she thinks, because when it comes to barbeque, I’m a slave to the pink.

Some of you may be wondering what I'm talking about (the rest of you are just disappointed about what I'm not talking about). You see, one of the hallmarks of good barbeque is a beautiful pink ring (aka "smoke ring") just below the surface of a piece of well prepared meat. Now, the smoke ring is a result of a reaction between smoke (specifically, nitrates), the meat (oxygen carrying myoglobin tissue in muscles) and time. Personally, I think the smoke ring itself has a unique flavor of its own, others contend that it is just evidence of a good pitmaster. However, all are in agreement about what the presence of a smoke ring really means.

You see, one thing that makes barbeque great is that you often start with a borderline inedible piece of meat and, through the application of smoke, time and carefully controlled heat, turn it into something wonderful. I think that combination of art and science is part of the beauty of barbeque. Anyone can take a good steak, grill it well and eat like a king. But you don’t get that beautiful pink smoke ring from grilling, you only get it from barbeque (which is different than grilling, which is different yet from smoking, which is another post…Brian?).

Look at the triumvate of barbeque fare: pork shoulder (aka pork butt), beef brisket and pork spare ribs. These cuts are full of fat, connective tissue and all sorts of meat oddness that, under normal conditions, no one would touch. To be sure, beef brisket chews like a Goodyear tire if cooked like a steak. Only the time and low temperatures of good barbeque technique transforms the inedible connective tissues in those meats (specifically collagen) into lip smacking goodness (for those interested in the details, collagen only melts into yumminess from low heat over long periods). The pink, thus, is a testament to the time and careful attention paid to make a good meal. And that is a good thing (Brian's Martha fetish just got its wings).

What's the point of all this? Well, none, really. That's why I thought it would be a good Lounge post. Also, I thought the whole pussy euphamism would entertain the audience. Though reading it now it just seems like I haven't gotten enough of the real thing for a while. Until I do, I'll just keep eating barbeque.

At least my wife won't mind.