First things first. As an amateur food photographer, when I move between Stuttgart and Sens, it takes me a while to find the good light, that is, light that makes food attractive. As Roger Stowell’s past and future pupil, I know good light when I see it and it makes me unhappy when my posts contain pictures that look like “The Attack of the 1950s Betty Crocker Cookbook Photographers.” I post these “deeply disturbing” pictures because it makes me ashamed and induces me to work harder. I hate yesterday’s lead photo; sloppy food, sloppy picture Now, with that said, let’s talk about my husband
I don’t think my husband works at all, but just hangs around the commissary buying things he thinks we need. The latest was a slab of interesting colored pork ribs, so lean that I thought of ”Yond Cassius” or consumption or pigs dropping dead on the road from Les Cayes to the market in Camp Perrin in Haiti. But the ribs were USDA certified, so that’s okay, said Rosemary Mullally, never.
Back in the day, when we were privilege hungry, we used to envy the military personnel at the Embassies who had commissary and PX privileges and sometimes planes that flew into Africa with goods ordered from those stores. Not allowed to sell these items, military friends gave us occasional gifts of Oreos, Lay’s potato chips or some other American delicacy. Boy were we jealous! I know it’s a sin but there’s confession
Then, when I was pregnant with our son and went to Wiesbaden (i before e), Germany for a medical checkup, we were told that with our diplomatic passports, we would have access to the U.S. commissaries and PXs in Germany. We were so excited! The same thing in London when our son was in hospital with a detached Achilles tendon (He and his friend accidentally made a pipe bomb. Idiots.) Both times our return suitcases were bulging!
So that’s why. My husband haunts the commissary to make up for the almost untenable deprivations of his Oreo-less youth. I don’t really care. Like old ladies, old guys have to have fun too He tells me that we also have access to the French military commissary in Paris. Now you’re talking!
Today I decided to go “a la American” with my Lay’s barbecue potato chip rub. It worked beautifully with the lamb shoulder, and everything goes with pork. I cut the slab in half because I thought it would look better.
Eureka! I learned how to make a clickable link! I was trying to figure this out because after a reader recommended my blog on her site, she then deplored the fact that my posts were sometimes filled with unsightly URLs. Thank you constructive criticizer
Ribs with a Potato Chip Rub
1 slab of USDA certified ribs, cut in half
2 tbsp chili powder
2 tbsp paprika
1 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp dry mustard
1 tbsp garlic powder
1 tbsp onion powder
1 tsp piment d’espelette
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp black pepper
1 tbsp salt
Mix all the spices together, then heavily rub onto both sides of the ribs, then refrigerate for at least 2 hours or overnight.
With all burners blazing or crimson charcoal, sear the rib pieces on the fat side. Turn off the burners on one side of the grill, or scrape the charcoal to one side, then put the ribs, fat side up, on the cold side of the grill, put the top down and grill for about an 1 1/2 – 2 hours.
Note: Store left over spice mix in a jar for next time. In other words, there’s more than enough for another time or two.