The Flavorful Fuel
By Scott Barentsen
October 12, 2002
Wood is without doubt, the flavorful fuel. In the case of barbecue,
wood gives meat essential smoke flavor. Without the smoke, it still
might be good, but it isn't true barbecue. In the case of grilling,
well, most of us just don't grill over real wood embers. We grill over
charcoal, which is not the same. Charcoal does produce the high, dry
heat necessary to sear an intensely flavorful, browned crust onto the
surface of foods. This is why we grill -- "brown food tastes better".
Plus of course, grilling is fun.
But those of us who know real barbecue want more than straight charcoal can provide. We want our grilled food to taste of the wood fire. Some claim grilled items just don't cook long enough to catch any flavor from the fuel. My experience though, is that with the right technique, wood makes a huge flavor difference in the results.
| This fact is not lost on professional chefs. All over the country, upscale, sophisticated restaurants are installing wood burning grills and ovens and making them the backbone of their menus. One such chef is Fred Halpert, who owns Brava Terrace in Blackhawk, CA. |
|
Fred has been cooking over wood for a long time. Trained in France, his
live-fire focused restaurant burns a cord of wood every two weeks in its Italian
made oven and Texas made grill. A few weeks ago, a local cooking school offered
a "grill session" with Fred. I signed up. During class I asked so many questions
Chef Halpert invited me to Brava Terrace to
experience restaurant style wood grilling up close and personal. I was
delighted.
The Gringo Flunky
I showed up at Brava Terrace about five, as the line cooks were still "digging in", preparing their stations for what would be a long, busy Saturday night. Food was arranged for quick and easy access, along with equipment, tools, condiments, herbs, marinades, etc. The kitchen and walk-in refrigerator were filled with partially cooked items that would be combined at the last moment and finished just prior to serving. This was key to the complex and wonderful dishes that were being offered in the dining room. Each component of a dish (the sauce, the meat, the garnish, the vegetable) added a layer of flavor and texture that in the final product, combined and harmonized into something more than the sum of its parts. It was impossible to bring all of these components together at the last moment without a tremendous amount of planning and preparation.Fred gave me a pair of chef whites and introduced me to his team of line cooks. Juan was on the dessert/salad station, Javier was manning the wood-burning oven, Alfonso had sauté, and Octavio was working the massive grill. Alfonso and Juan were brothers. In the back room the dishwasher (whose name I didn't catch) was also from Mexico. I was the only gringo in the kitchen. I was immediately put to work doing tasks well suited to my "flunky" status. I tore the leaves off of chervil, thyme, and opal basil. I fetched things from the walk-in. I helped make a delicious bruschetta with toasted bread, heirloom tomatoes, the aforementioned basil, and white truffle oil. I put crème fraiche and caviar on an appetizer of sautéed scallops over homemade potato chips. And of course, I sampled the food (and listened very closely to Chef Halpert when he had a moment to talk or a task for me). In the meantime, my amigos on the line were responding to the growing crowd in the restaurant and the food orders rolling off the tiny printer near Octavio's station.
The line cooks were fascinating to watch. They worked with a remarkable amount of skill and coordination. Plates moved from one end of the exhibition kitchen to the other as each cook made his contribution to the final dish. Octavio grilled chicken that went into Alfonso's pasta entrée. Grilled portobello mushrooms and asparagus ended up in Juan's salads. All of it seemed to come up at just the right moment, as each table was ready for their next course. The cooks worked this very carefully.
About eight o'clock, the orders started really stacking up. A VIP party of twenty (Chef Halpert's partner) showed up half an hour early and demanded appetizers. A minor crisis in the kitchen ensued. As the pressure mounted the kitchen got hotter. Alfonso "popped" all eight of the big 30,000 BTU burners on the Montague cooktop. Octavio opened the fire door on the grill to get more air to the fire. Sauté pans came off the stove and onto the grill as they ran out of room. The cooks started sweating, but with confidence, an economy of movement, and serious intensity, they pushed through the rush.
|
|
The Asadero and his Grill
At the top of the line cook food chain was Octavio. He was from Michoacan. He'd been working at Brava Terrace for seven months and prior to that he'd presided over a gas grill at another restaurant. Grilling over real wood was a much more challenging job, but one he savored. Although he called himself the "grill bitch" it didn't take much observation to see he was the Asadero (or Mexican grill master). Instead of using timers and meat thermometers, Octavio worked by feel. He was constantly touching the food, checking it for doneness and seasoning. Nothing was sent back. At any given moment he had as many as a dozen different items sizzling away on the hot grill, competing for his attention, all that needed to come up at various times with various degrees of doneness. There was tuna, spice rubbed lamb, steaks, veal, chops, chicken, and salmon. Most everything got a squeeze of olive oil and a heavy dose of salt and pepper before hitting the fire.
I didn't get to taste all of it, but it sure looked delicious. What I was able to savor was outstanding. Then there was the maddening little printer spitting out more orders, and the fire itself, which needed tending. But Octavio managed all of it. He seemed to know instinctively when an item was beginning to burn or needed to be rotated to create impressive crosshatch grill marks. Watching him work was like observing an athlete at the top of his game. What he was doing was an order of magnitude more difficult than what a backyard cook does on the Weber at home.
Speaking of grills, The Brava Terrace grill was unlike any I'd seen. Made in Mesquite, Texas by J&R Manufacturing, this thing was six feet by two and a half feet of burning love. Called the "Woodshow Broiler", it had heavy half-inch wide cast iron grates and a firebox lined with 4 inches of "chefcool" refractory ceramic insulation. Above the grill was an industrial hood. Inside it burned glowing logs of almond, walnut and cherry.
|
|
Chef Halpert used to grill exclusively over oak, but switched to this mix after discovering it provided better flavor. Like the small, hot fires ideal for barbecue, this fire produced very little visible smoke. The food that came off it though, had the unmistakable flavor of a wood fire. I was surprised to find the heat level over most of the grill to be medium high (about five seconds or so with the hand test). Even though the fire was huge, it blazed deep in the firebox, a good distance from the food. This moderated the temperature at the grate.
The grill was equipped with a wheel you could use to lower and raise the
grate and change the temperature, but Octavio never used it. He preferred to
manage the heat by altering the airflow to the fire, or moving the food to areas
of higher or lower heat across the grate. Steaks went near the hottest part of
the fire (where the cast iron was white hot) while whole loins of veal went off
to the side to be marked and seared prior to being finished in the convection
oven.
About 9:30 pm or so my feet were killing me and I'd seen enough. I said thanks
to Chef Halpert and was on my way, resolved to do some of the things I'd seen he
and his line cooks do that night; mainly - to use wood as my fuel, but also, to
do more preparation and planning, to sharpen my knives, to do the entire meal on
the grill, to salt food more aggressively, and to shop at the farmer's market
for the best seasonal ingredients.
Wood Grilling at Home
You don't need a six thousand dollar "Woodshow Broiler" at home to grill over wood. For some time now I've been occasionally grilling over wood in my backyard. Encouraged by the writings of Steven Raichlen and others, I've been burning wood chunks down to coals and using them for steaks. I've used both oak and hickory to some success. Wood chunks are easier to manage than logs, unless of course you have a fireplace and a grill insert for it. Logs take a long time to burn down and get to the right temperature. In addition, most backyard grills are too small to burn them. On the other hand, chunks are considerably more expensive than logs. If you can find a place that sells chunks in bulk you will pay much less.
About a year ago I bought a fifty-pound sack of
hickory chunks at a good price. One caution though - the first time I used them
for grilling, I was in the side yard and there wasn't much of a breeze. The
hickory produced so much smoke the neighbors thought my house was on fire! If
you live in a rural area, this shouldn't be a problem, but if you live in the 'burbs
be careful. Always have a fire extinguisher on hand.
Wood chunks burn much hotter than charcoal. Because of the higher heat it helps
to have a grill with an adjustable firebox (or grate). This gives you more
control over the heat level, and grilling is all about heat control. To avoid
the smoke problem you can burn a mix of wood and charcoal in your grill. Just
add a few wood chunks to the bottom of your charcoal chimney when starting your
fire. By the time the coals are ready on top, the chunks at the bottom will be
good and hot and ready to contribute their flavor to your ingredients.
I don't cover the grill when I'm using wood and there are a few reasons why.
First, the cover cuts oxygen to the fire and cools it off. A clean fire is a hot
fire, and one with little visible smoke. It's not necessary to see smoke for the
wood to flavor the food. In fact, thick, white smoke is a sign your fire is
producing creosote, and creosote is the last thing you want on your food. The
combination of a closed grill and a dirty fire is one to avoid.
Second, the high
heat of the wood fire will produce an impressive sear on the food. If you leave
the cover off you can watch the food carefully and make sure it doesn't burn.
Lastly, if you're direct grilling with the cover on fat drips down from the meat
onto the fire and burns, producing bitter smoke (think grease fire here).
Indirect grilling, where the food is not directly over the fire, is the place to
use wood for flavor and the cover on to keep the smoke circulating and the grill
at roasting temperature.
In the end, you don't learn to grill over wood by reading an essay. It takes
experience. I've read plenty, but until I learned a particular lesson for myself
(usually by making a mistake) it didn't really stick. Grilling is a craft. To be
a journeyman at it you need to practice, practice, practice. To be a master,
your resume should probably include a tour of duty in a restaurant kitchen over
a wood grill. The nice thing about practicing the craft of grilling is that
perfecting your technique while pursuing the perfect steak (or chicken, or fish
for that matter), is one of the more pleasurable ways to spend time.
Happy grilling.
Note: For more on amateurs in the kitchen click
here.