After this post, I received a message from my brother in WA: “You mentioned on your blog about a cookbook you once had called ‘Dishes Men Love.’ I have a booklet called “Dishes Men Like” also from Lea and Perrins. I bought it at a garage sale years ago when I was still in Hayward. Is this the same one?” and attached a scanned photo of the booklet.
My heart was pounding as I eyed the thumbnail image of the blue booklet—I could recognize even a pinhead image of it. It was the cookbook I had been looking for in the past 20++ years. I even wrote Lea and Perrins a couple of times asking about it (no reply ever).
He goes on to say: “I was inexplicably drawn to this cookbook when I saw it. I had a sense of familiarity with it that was hard to explain. Now, I’m thinking I may have seen it when I was younger and somehow the memory of it imprinted in my brain.”
My brother made my day—as he has done in many other serendipitous situations, most of them linked to food. Indeed, food—the eating and cooking of it—links all of us seven siblings. But it is my brother and I who are most passionate about it, we even blog about it. But while I tend to be safe and traditional in my cooking style, he cooks with reckless abandon. My plating and photos are geometric, his are gorgeously styled. He and I are both crazy over kitchen tools and gadgets—he introduced me to Sur La Table 10 years ago. He thinks that between the two of us we could open our own kitchen store! Truly-ly!
This is one of a couple of recipes I remember doing from the L and P booklet (the other is meatloaf). It comes from a barbecue expert from Texas. He barbecued a dozen fryers over hickory fire, basting his sauce on the chicken with a 2-foot green limb and a rag mop on the end (funny, I have nursed this image in my mind for over 20 years). Hundreds of people have said this is the finest sauce they have ever tasted. I love it because it is not sweet.
It is also one of two all-American barbecue sauces—my Dixie sauce, I call it—that I store in my cache. The other one, my Yankee sauce—comes from Cornell University. Both sauces have a distinctly American flavor—but of course—and will probably not appeal to many Filipinos, especially those who prefer their barbecue, like their spaghetti, on the sweet side. If you’re one of these, or are simply looking for a Pinoy barbecue, then you should use one of my Pinoy-na-Pinoy barbecue sauces: Chicken Inasal and Pork Barbecue.
Texas Chicken Barbecue
- 1 c water
- ½ t black pepper freshly ground
- 4 T brown sugar
- 2 cloves garlic chopped fine
- 2 t salt
- 1 c cider vinegar
- 5 oz Lea & Perrins Worcestershire sauce divided
- juice of 4 lemons
- 4 T butter
- For the Barbecue:
- 1 k chicken cut into serving pieces
- Make the barbecue sauce: In a 2-quart pot, bring water to a boil. Add pepper; simmer 5 minutes. Add sugar, stir until dissolved. Stir in garlic, salt, and vinegar. Add half of the Worcestershire sauce; simmer for about 1 minute. Stir in lemon juice, then add the remaining Worcestershire sauce; simmer for about 1 minute. Off the heat, stir in butter. Let cool completely before use.Yield: 1 quart
- Marinate chicken in sauce 8 to 24 hours or as long as possible.
- Grill or broil as desired.* Grilled: Grill over hot coals slowly until tender, about 25 minutes, turning often. Baste frequently with additional sauce.* Broiled: Heat broiler 10 minutes. Place chicken on broiler pan. Broil slowly, turning and basting often, until tender and brown, 30 to 45 minutes.