Photo: Kemp Minifie
“Just wait until you try the chicken!” I was told several times by various people during a dreamy four-day high-end camping party hosted by dear friends at their ranch in northern New Mexico, where catch-and-release fly fishing and hiking are the daytime pastimes, while delicious feasts, with incredible wines and lively conversation, fill the evening hours. Barbecue chicken has become a tradition for the final meal and with good reason. It’s the best darn chicken I’ve ever had.
The birds were not mopped with a gloppy barbecue sauce. No, these chickens were simply cooked in what the local caterer, Tori Hurd, who prepared every meal for sixteen people for the holiday, called a barbecuer. The contraption looked similar to a smoker grill I found online, but it was much larger. The barbecue cooker was custom-made in Texas for a co-owner of the ranch from a section of oil pipe—the steel pipe used in pipelines—and jury-rigged so that it looked like a giant enclosed barrel hoisted on legs, which allowed it to rest on its side. Cut into half of the top side was a door, giving access to the sliding rack inside. Two tall chimneys perched on top. It was an impressive piece of equipment.
Because of Gourmet Live’s current issue on grilling, I grilled Hurd to find out exactly how she produced such marvelous birds. “I stress out more about these chickens than anything else during these trips,” she admitted. No one would have known; she was the epitome of calm. Continue reading
