BBQ maven aims to smoke the competition

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

By Jaye Beeler

Press Food Editor

On a Wednesday afternoon, Ford Alison had 16 marinated chicken thighs injected with a cocktail of butter, light beer and medley of dried spices, and rubbed with Head Country Rub (all the way from Ankeny, Iowa) smoking in one of his wood-burning smoker ovens.

They are due for a romp in the "hot tub," a disposable aluminum foil pan brimming with The Slabs, Kyle Style Complete Your Meat BBQ Sauce and Swanson's chicken stock.

He is cooking competition style, so he abides by all sorts of quirky rules, such as the only acceptable garnishes are green leaf lettuce and parsley. Red leaf lettuce, romaine or crinkly greens might disqualify you. Seriously.

"Competition chicken is more babied than a newborn, and I know that's hard to believe," said Alison, a project management consultant currently working with an information technology department of a large company in Tyson's Corner, Va.

"The difference between cooking in your backyard and cooking in a contest is everything you do has to be perfect. Not only do you have to nail your food, it has to be the best food that you've ever cooked in your life. But you (also) have to get the right set of judges at the table that your meat goes to. If you happen to get the guy that is in a real bad mood, you're out of luck."

Alison's team, Great Lakes BBQ and Feed Co., of Sparta, competes in Kansas City Barbecue Society-sanctioned competitions. The KCBS folks are mighty fussy: Contestants must abide by more than two dozen rules and regulations. No gas or electric grills are allowed. No cooking of any kind is allowed until the meat passes muster by the official meat inspector. No country-style ribs. Pork is defined only as Boston butt or whole shoulder. Meat must be ready at the posted turn-in time -- 10 minutes late and the contestant might as well go home.

The American Royal Barbecue Contest in Kansas City, Mo., in early October, is the season finale for the competitive circuit. Spreading over 20 acres in Kansas City's historic Stockyards District, and with nearly 500 teams competing in four contests, the Royal is the largest barbecue contest (or party, depending on how you look at things) in the world.

So far, Alison has competed in the American Royal twice. His 2003 bid was his best showing. He finished a respectable 14th place in ribs and 16th in sides out of 300 teams.

"I got lucky, there is no question," Alison said. "You have to get lucky in that one. If you are anywhere in the top 50, you could have just as easily won. When we go to the American Royal, it is a four-day party. The biggest party you have ever seen in your life."

Alison is aiming to win an invitation to the coveted Jack Daniel's World Championship Invitational Barbecue held in Lynchburg (pop. 361), Tenn., in late October.

"That's the contest we all want -- The Jack," Alison said. "Let me say it like this, the American Royal Invitational is like winning the NFC Championship -- it is a wonderful trophy, but it doesn't mean diddly squat unless you win one more game."

Yep, this is mighty serious smoking, low, slow and a bit surreal.

At competitions, the Friday night party that comes to pass while competitors are cooking for Saturdays turn-in times are legendary. Of course, that makes sense because barbecuing is more communal than anything else. On the competition circuit, Alison has learned perfectly cooked ribs should not fall off the bone, to inject his meat with a marinade to keep it juicy, to goose his smoked baked beans with golden raisins and pork fat and to cook his pork butt for an eternity.

Through it all, he watches the atomic clock (which is what the judges use) like a hawk. He has his plan mapped out by the minute, from which rub goes with which meat to when to pull out his artist paintbrush to brush on barbecue sauce.

It all started when he married Carol, who had lived in Texas and wanted real barbecue "so I had to learn to cook a brisket," said Alison, who cooks on the competition circuit traveling to Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Wisconsin, Nevada and Maryland.

Today's gathering was a precursor for Cabela's World's Foremost Bar-B-Que Challenge 2006 in Dundee. Alison selected his best six chicken thighs from the 16 that he smoked to present in 9-by-9 Styrofoam clamshells (similar to the kind take-out barbecue joints use.) After he nestled the chicken thighs in the green leaf lettuce and positioned parsley in between each piece, he pulled out a pair of cuticle scissors to trim everything just so. At a real competition, he would be awarded points for appearance, taste and tenderness.

"What I really want is when the judges open that box for the first time and that they look at this chicken (and say) 'I want that. I want it now. I don't want any of the others,' " Alison said. "As you know, people eat with their eyes, so before they ever taste my entry, I want them to decide it's the nicest looking one there. And right then, I already have a better score than anyone at the table."