Barbecue is hot.
Hot and fast, actually, compared to low and slow.
Seriously, the world of competitive barbecue is extremely popular, with television and streaming shows, podcasts and YouTube channels with devout followers. The third season of the wildly successful “BBQ Showdown” is set to debut on Independence Day on Netflix.
There are many reasons for that popularity, said Rick Brandini, a competitive pitmaster from RBQ Barbecue in Gilroy preparing for the Memorial Day weekend competition in Felton on the grounds of the Roaring Camp Railroad State Historic Site.
“For one thing, it tastes good. For another thing, every person in every region thinks they make the best ’que in the world,” he said. “But ultimately, it is a distinctly American institution, something we do like no one else in the world.”
But that doesn’t stop the Kansas City Barbeque Society—the organization sponsoring the second annual Roaring Camp BBQ Cook-off—from hosting barbecues across the world, from Scandinavia to New Zealand.
And on this brisk but sunny Friday morning, it didn’t stop the world from coming to Felton. Touring chefs from Japan arrived in a minivan and one Weber kettle, determined to cook four meats on it successfully. Seasoned pitmasters were amazed, as the morning wore on, and 20 other teams besides Brandini’s RBQ rolled in or were already camped out on Roaring Camp’s expansive, lush lawn, tending to their “rigs”—barbecues and smokers.
‘Coachella with briskets’
The grassy area in front of Roaring Camp’s Bret Harte Hall soon resembled a campground, with everything from tents to elite Campers boasting four televisions, living rooms and sleeping arrangements for six. It was like old-home week, as competitors greeted old friends, shared drinks and admired new equipment.
“It’s kind of like for Coachella with brisket,” said Ben Lobenstein, a seasoned organizer of barbecue competitions, including this one.
In most KCBS competitions—called the Master series—pitmasters are called upon to prepare four meats: chicken, pork ribs, pork and the king of the day, beef brisket.
Brandini did not have a flashy set-up, but pulled a small trailer packed with everything he needed. Some of his neighbors, like 2023 Roaring Camp Grand Champion Steph Franklin of Simply Marvelous BBQ, arrived in a pristine RV with an indoor kitchen.
Franklin also had some flashy smokers and cookers and had done much of the prep beforehand. He sat comfortably in a chair while other pitmasters scrambled to get their meat ready for the next day’s cook. The lawn soon looked like a craft fair or swim meet as tents jumped up, chairs and tables were stationed, and advice was shared.
“I’ve been doing this for 16 years,” Franklin said. “I always liked to barbecue, and one day someone dared me to compete in a competition. I did pretty well, and I got hooked.”
He offered his help to RBQ as Brandini and his son Matt began hauling out their tent and the stars of the day, two-barrel smokers and an oval, elongated egg-shaped barbecue that would cook the ribs. There was a long table, a large thermos for water to drink and clean utensils, and a large tent to keep them covered from the sun.
Then the questions started rolling from almost all the pitmasters, Brandini included: Where was the water? Where should they dump the coals the next days? Where could they clean larger utensils? Where were the porta-potties? And most important, was there WiFi?
Lobenstein, with characteristic calm, answered all the questions he could, and if he couldn’t, he got help. Tracy Allen, a well-known barbecue competition organizer for the California Barbecue Association (CBBQA), was in training to become a KCBS organizer, like Lobenstein. She had her chops down. Seeing a woman competitor with nail polish, she said, “You have to wear gloves. Your nail polish is chipping. No nail polish chips in the meat.”
Wearing plastic gloves is a must for all pitmasters. For one thing, it’s easier to handle the meat.
The prep
The Brandini team decided to start their preparation at the top, with the brisket, and save the most onerous task —preparing the chicken — for last. Most pitmasters order their brisket from Snake River Farms in Idaho, which provides rich Wagyu beef. His rolled in at 16 pounds. With the precision of surgeons, Rick and Matt cut through the brisket, along the striations, and seasoned it with rubs. (They used some Franklin sells in his online shop.) They grunted together in a language that said they’d been doing this a long time together, since around 2015. Matt, a paramedic in nursing school, has not had much time to help his father lately, but he took off a shift off to be at Roaring Camp.
After the brisket came a quick rest to pop a beer, then on to the pork. It was a little more complicated to prepare, as most judges prefer something called the “money muscle,” round medallions. Some leftover pork was cut into chunks, or pulled pork, and all were seasoned. Any extra was chopped up for a fajita dinner that night.
“My daughter was appalled at the food waste the first time she saw it, so she took the extra pork and made fajitas,” Brandini said. “It’s been our tradition ever since, to use it there and in breakfast in the morning.”
He was careful cutting the meat, making sure not to accidentally cut a finger—not because of injury, but so that bits of his blue plastic gloves wouldn’t appear on the judge’s table.
Then the RBQ team attacked the ribs — the forte of Matt Brandini, who can identify a good rib by feeling it. They were cut and again seasoned. Sauce would be put on in the morning.
Finally, it was time for the chicken, and Brandini easily tore the skin from the thighs. Then Matt went to work. Besides brain surgery or air traffic control, nothing seems to be more tenuous and delicate than scraping the fat from chicken skin. Yet Matt did it with a precision and speed that was stunning to observe. And 20 other teams were probably doing the same thing.
“The issue is, judges like these chicken pillows,” Brandini said as he seasoned the inside and outside of the thighs and folded them together. Then the Brandinis took the scraped chicken skin and wrapped the thighs, creating attractive pillows of chicken. They too would be sauced and glazed in the morning.
Finally, the pitmasters could relax. They drew up in groups reminiscing about past competitions: “Remember Santa Anita…that was a great venue.” “Remember how hot it was in Ceres?” “I remember sleeping on a cot in Oroville half on the grass and the sprinklers went on in the middle of the night.”
These pitmasters may be competing for $8,000 in prize money, but the closeness and comradery are what make these events so special.
Competition day
After a night where Matt Brandini settled down on a blow-up mattress in the small trailer and Rick slept on a cot under the foggy sky, it was D-Day, which started at 4 a.m.
Like the beacons lit in the “The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King,” the pitmaster’s campground slowly lit up with charcoal in the brisket barrels. The sweet smell was stunning. But there wasn’t time to enjoy it. The pitmasters tried to get more sleep, but most stayed up to babysit their briskets. Brandini would cook his for three hours, inject it with a concoction of apple juice, then wrap it for two more hours. At about 6 a.m., it was time for the ribs, the pork and finally the chicken, which cooks fastest.
The first turn before the judges was 11 a.m., so the pitmasters worked backward, depending on how quickly their meat cooked. Then turn-ins were every half hour after that.
Brandini quickly seasoned his sauce (which he brought in a jar) and glazed the meat. Then the important part: selecting six of the best pieces of meat to put in boxes, usually prepared with a garnish. Kale is a favorite, since the meat can settle in and not mess up a box. Pitmasters also use parsley or lettuce; judges like the parsley to cleanse their palates. But they avoid red-leaf lettuce, an immediate disqualification.
The pitmasters have 10 minutes to turn in their finished product. Matt Brandini likes to push the limit, making sure each box is clean and attractive before the fast walk to the turn in-table.
Inside, 24 judges — four tables of six — would decide the fate of the pitmasters’ efforts and hard work. Trained by KCBS, many are Master Judges, which means they have judged more than 30 competitions.
Chicken is the first turn-in, followed by ribs, then pork and finally brisket. When the last turn-in is over, it would seem like it was time to relax. But no. The dirty work of cleaning up starts.
There is a lot of leftover food pitmasters either bring home, donate, or, in the case of Brandini, share with family. His daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren showed up, not only to enjoy lunch but to pack the extras for Brandini’s wife and mother-in-law. Pork scraps were saved for the family dog.
After scrubbing knives, bowls and other tools, it was time to pop a beer. “We always wait until the last turn-in to celebrate,” Brandini said. Other pitmasters were doing the same, with Jack Daniel’s, Champagne or sodas.
Then the waiting began.
The calls
Competitive barbecue is an expensive hobby, and teams pay to play. The number of teams dictates the prize money. There’s also the cost of the meat, equipment and various other toys, from digital thermometers to sleek trailers.
Everyone would like to get a little bit back, but that’s not why Brandini does it: “It’s just fun,” he said.
While the judging was done about 1 p.m., it still takes the KCBS representatives—Mike and Rhonda Santiago, plus Lobenstein and Allen—a few hours to enter results in a computer and prepare the winners’ plaques. And to write checks.
Judges score from one to nine, there is no perfect 10. Some, not all, judges offer explanations of their scores on comment cards.
Finally, at 5 p.m., pitmasters gather to hear the results.
Lobenstein calls the top 10 winners in each category. The top five get a plaque and a check, the denomination higher with each victor. Sixth through tenth places simply get a “call,” while the best five get a “walk.” They walk up to receive their plaque, have a picture taken with Lobenstein and get their prize money.
Chicken came first, and the first name called was RBQ at No. 10. RBQ was again called at No. 8 for pork, a bit of a surprise for Brandini. After all the hard work, he received just those two prizes. It was a sadder outcome for California Wine and Italian Blue, the team from Japan that cooked on one kettle. They finished last but said, through an interpreter, they had a great time.
The Grand Champion, Cherry Anchor of Stockton, which received four top-five honors, was no surprise. Everyone congratulated pitmaster Joe Wilson and other top winners. There was no spite, no overt jealousy, just a supportive vibe that permeated the pitmasters like the smell of barbecue.
As the rigs pulled out, there were shouts of “Congratulations,” “See you in Clayton” (the site of the next big KCBS Competition June 15), and “Thanks for the help with….”
Barbecue competitions may seem like steamy clashes on TV, but they’re nothing but hard work and good-natured fun. And whether it’s in a backyard or a contest, that’s what American barbecue should be.