Md. barbecue competition is intense -- that's the rub
By AL KEMP • The News Journal • July 27, 2008
STEVENSVILLE, Md. -- The atomic clock reads 11:52 and 13 seconds, and the members of Pigheaded BBQ competitive grilling team are hovering over a mess of chicken thighs hot off the grill.
With the practiced precision of jewelers setting gemstones, Brian Milito and Ron Templeman Jr. arrange six of the plumpest on a bed of lettuce leaves inside a styrofoam container.
Milito uses tiny tweezers to remove toothpicks buried under the chicken skin before Templeman applies a final glaze of tangy sauce with a silicone-bristle brush.
"The silicone does show brush strokes, but the other kind can leave hairs, and that's a disqualification," said Templeman's father, Ron Sr., head cook of the competitive barbecue team based in Middletown, Del.
All around them, rival teams are in the final stages of chicken preparation.
With equipment in tow, and names like Saucy Butts BBQ and Butt-A-Bing BBQ, they have come to this storybook town on the Upper Chesapeake to compete in the third annual Chesapeake Bay BBQ Cook-Off. Of the 29 teams in Saturday's judging, four were from Delaware.
"A wet wipe!" Milito says, surgeon-style, and Templeman snaps a paper towel from overhead.
The head cook looks at the atomic clock again as Milito wipes the styrofoam pristine. The time is 11:55 and 22 seconds.
"They are what they are," the head cook declares. "We don't have time to waste."
The men take one last look before team member Mike Sadgwar takes the handoff and hurries to the judging pavilion just in time for the noon turn-in.
All the teams will repeat the procedure at 30-minute intervals, delivering styrofoam containers of pork ribs, pulled pork (shoulder or butt) and beef brisket to the pavilion for judging.
The judges are all certified by the Kansas City Barbecue Society, and they perform their task largely in silence at seven tables inside the pavilion, shielded for privacy by sheets of white plastic.
Judges rate each entry's appearance, taste and tenderness on a scale of 2 to 9 -- inedible to excellent.
To cleanse the palate between entries, judges are permitted only water and Saltine crackers.
Saturday's judging required 10 cases of bottled water, a case of Saltines and a case of paper towels, said Linda Mullane, a master judge and board member of the Kansas City Barbecue Society.
The competition, which benefits Special Olympics, is a two-day affair, with teams setting up Friday night to begin the slow-cooking process in which heat and smoke produce tender, succulent results that bottled sauces try to reproduce.
"We see cooks from all walks of life, but a lot of lawyers, doctors, airplane pilots -- all sorts of high-stress jobs," Mullane said.
The vast majority of contestants are men -- drawn, they say, by the intense nature of the competition as well as the chance to swap ideas on equipment advances, grilling techniques and when to apply a pork butt rub.
Competition can be heated. Competitive barbecue teams often send emissaries to "shig" or spy on opponents. Spices and rubs left in public view are often deliberately mislabeled to safeguard team secrets, said Dan McGrath, captain of the Wilmington-based Mutha Chicken team.
But Templeman, recalling a competition last year at Dover Downs when wind gusts toppled a newcomer's canopy and bullet smoker with meat inside, said the competition is friendly.
"The guy's neighbors wouldn't let him quit. They pitched in to get him back in the contest," he said.
