Recipe: Easy All Natural Homemade Barbecue Sauce (2024)

Grilled pork ribs slathered with homemade BBQ Sauce

"What do you feel like having for dinner?" I asked Joe ashe sat down tohis usual breakfast of organic peanut butter and apricot jam on thick slices of homemade Farmhouse White Sandwich Breadand a big glass of fresh Jersey milk courtesy of a cow down the road.

Unless we've already planned that night's dinner the day before (a rarity around here), we need to decide fairly early what we're going to have, since chances are good any meat portion of a meal is frozen.

Sometimes one of us already has an idea of what we want, sometimes we both have the same idea, and sometimes neither of us has a clue and hopes the other person will come up with something brilliant.

After a minute he said, "Isn't there still a slab of pork ribs in the freezer?"

"Yes! And I'll make barbecue sauce!"

But twice now, while in the throes of grilled pork rib ecstasy courtesy of the locally raised hog we had butchered last summer, I've admitted—out loud—that if ever there were a case for messing with an animal's DNA, it would be in order to add a couple of extra sets of rib cages to a hog. That's how much I love pork ribs.

The definition of perfect barbecue depends on who you are and where you're from. Opinions are strong, and discussions about one cooking method over another, sauce vs. no sauce, whether it's barbecue, BBQ, or Bar-B-Que—or even what actually constitutes barbecue—can get ugly.

Maybe because I didn't grow up in a place known for it's 'cue (did I lead a deprived childhood or what?), my own feelings regarding barbecue can be summed up in three simple words: Bring it on!

America's Best BBQ honors the people who make it. Food tastes better when you know the people and stories behind the recipes, and in this book you'll meet lots of famous and not-so-famous pitmasters and barbecue personalities as authors Paul Kirk, pitmaster and winner of seven world barbecue championships, and barbecue historian and ambassador Ardie A. Davis take you on a tour of the best swine dining establishments from coast to coast.

Along with the standard ribs, rubs, sauces, beans, potato salad, and coleslaw, there are recipes for everything from Jamaican jerk hog wings, fried cheese steak grits, jalapeno hushpuppies, fried okra, and vidalia onion dip to barbecued pork steaks with chunky applesauce, lobster stuffed with smoked seafood, rib gumbo, and Bar-B-Q spaghetti.

Anyone for Red's barbecued raccoon or some grilled rattlesnake? I'm definitely going to try the butterflied leg of lamb with caramelized onion bbq sauce.

There's even dessert: fried peach pies (I'm a sucker for a good fried pie—or even a mediocre fried pie), root beer cake, Lexington banana pudding, turtle cheesecake, apple dumplings, deep-fried Oreos, and more.

If you love BBQ, you're probably going to love this book even if you never make a single recipe or visit any of the restaurants because the collection of full-color photos of signage, menus, memorabilia, restaurant dining rooms, smiling pit masters, and of course plenty of mouthwatering food is wonderful.

If you love seeking out new 'cue, then get your hands on a copy, grab a map, and start planning your next road trip. If you know someone who fits into either of these categories, this book would make a great gift.

Got any barbecue recipes, tips, or lip-smacking stories to share? Directions to your favorite smokehouses and rib joints—along with what we should order of course—are especially welcome. If you've shared a barbecue recipe or BBQ restaurant review on your own blog, you're welcome to leave a link to the post in your comment.

Makes about 2 cups of thick sauce

I've been making this sort of tangy, sort of sweet, basic tomato-based barbecue sauce for at least a dozen years, though not nearly often enough. I love it slathered on grilled pork ribs (with extra sauce on the side for dipping), but you can put it on pretty much anything: chicken, burgers, pulled pork sandwiches, brisket, sausage links, even fries.

As for the pork ribs pictured here, Joe 'just cooked them until they were done' on our outdoor gas grill, with nothing on them except this sauce. The only other instructions I could get out of him were to wait until the last 20 minutes or so of cooking before you start basting with the sauce, because otherwise it'll just burn.

2 Tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

2½ cups finely chopped onion (about 14 ounces/1 large onion)

2 to 4 cloves garlic, minced

3 Tablespoons brown sugar (granulated will work, too)

4 Tablespoons sweet molasses (not blackstrap)

1/3 cup raw organic apple cider vinegar (we buy Braggby the gallon)

1 6-ounce can organic tomato paste

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1 teaspoon chili powder (optional)

1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper (optional)

1 teaspoon salt

Several grinds fresh black pepper

1½ cups water

Heat the olive oil in a 4-quart pot. Add the onions and cook over medium heat, stirring frequently (I use a wooden spoon), until they start to soften, then reduce the heat and cook until caramelized, about 20 to 30 minutes.

Increase the heat back up to medium, make a space in the center of the pot, add the garlic, and cook, stirring, for 1 minute. Stir in the brown sugar and cook, stirring frequently, for about 2 minutes.

Add the molasses, apple cider vinegar, tomato paste, cumin, chili powder and cayenne (if using), salt, and pepper, and stir to combine. Add the water. (If you're going to purée your sauce, you might want to do it now.)

Bring the sauce to a gentle boil, reduce the heat to low, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until thick, about 30 minutes.

Serve the sauce hot with whatever you like, or store in a covered container in the refrigerator.

If you plan to baste raw or partially cooked meat with your barbecue sauce, be sure to save some sauce in a separate container to have at the table for dipping.

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