Percy Street BBQ: Will Philly Bite on Texas BBQ?
Erin, who’s donned a cowboy hat she bought in a gas station yesterday, is leading the group, asking lots of questions and taking notes. She likes the smoker, even though it’s a little intimidating and very macho. Driving here, she told us about a place in Texas that has a female pit boss — a rarity.
Standing just under seven feet tall and about three feet wide, this is a cooking machine in its simplest form. There’s an electrical component, but it’s really just a supplement to the wood fire that creates smoke to fill the chamber and slowly cook what’s inside. It was barbecue’s simplicity that sparked the idea for Percy Street in the first place. Erin spent the past few years turning out elegant, complex food, so back-to-basics is a new challenge for her. In our overwrought culinary world of gastriques and foams and powders, it’s easy to understand the allure.
“It’s such a delicate balance,” she’ll say later. “Too much wood and the fire is too hot, the meat overcooks, and the smoke taste is too strong. Not enough, and it’s nothing special. We aren’t opening until it’s perfect.”
We’re led into a pristine test kitchen where the fire is stoked. Michael, always upbeat, with buzzed dark hair, sees the possibilities. Chefs are constantly thinking of ways to break up the everyday monotony of cooking. “We smoke a lot of things at Zahav, but just with pans on the stove,” he says. “I’ve never used anything like this.” He turns to Lucio Palazzo, the new sous-chef at Percy Street. “Man, we could smoke a foie gras terrine in this. Or we could smoke oysters. You could even smoke the grains and then make a pilaf out of them. I wonder if you could use the smoke drippings to poach fish?”
But then he realizes something.
“Ah,” he says, “it’s good I’m going away for a few days. It’s her thing, ya know?” He doesn’t want to overstep Erin. Such restraint is rare in the high-risk/reward psyche of a restaurateur.
We dig into some ribs that have been smoking overnight. It’s 9 a.m., but they’re the best ribs we’ve had so far: caramelized, fall-off-the-bone, finger-licking good.
Later, in the van, Erin will rattle off a wish list of kitchen equipment to Jay, the equipment guy. The list seems endless, and she asks Steve’s opinions — What kind of bins should we get to hold the brisket? How many hotel pans do you think we need? “Get what you want,” he says. The budget seems endless. “It’s not,” Steve says, “but we saved some money getting a place that already had a lot of equipment in it.” The Percy Street spot was formerly a short-lived New Orleans-style restaurant.
