Neil has a house very near the waters of Lake Washington. This means at each Seafair he and his family are pummeled by the noise of hydroplanes racing madly across the water and jet fighters making low passes over his house at three or four hundred knots.
If you don't know what hydroplanes are they are racing boats. Better to say they are a massive engine with just enough boat bolted around them to keep them from sinking like a stone.. They skim across the water like skipped stones with a suicidal lunatic strapped into them more-or-less aiming them around a course. The little ones at Seafair have huge, unmuffled outboards that drive them at speeds in excess of 140 miles per hour just offshore of Neil's house. The big ones, the Unlimited Class boats are powered by jet turbine engines out of helicopters and blast by flat-out at over 200 mph. It's LOUD. Then there are the low passes from F/A-18 jet fighters in formation...
Deciding to make lemonade of these very, very noisy lemons several years back he established the Festival of Loudness- a daytime house-party and barbecue for his friends. But Neil, you must understand, is not just a geek; he is an uber-geek. Possibly the geek to end all geeks.
Figuring that they would need a lot of meat for their many guests Neil bought a Smoker. But not just any smoker; he researched the matter and bought the best Smoker money could buy. Then he and his friends dove into it's workings and modified it for greater efficiency and improved ventilation and precise control of the smoke and heat. On the off-chance that some day a master chef somewhere else in the world might want to run their Super-Smoker by remote control they wired it to the internet. I'm not kidding.
It was worth it. The beef, pork and salmon that they served up that day were incomparable. But of course it was not enough... these guys are mega-uber geeks. Linda and I missed last year but we are told it involved some sort of rotisserie. I can only imagine...
So this year we arrived and mingled our way through the house, noting with primal-glee the huge platters of marinated and grilled vegetables, creamy Chevre goat cheese and other culinary delights that awaited us. Making our way to the backyard we beheld what this years BBQ-geekiness had wrought.
Oh.
My.
God.
This is the sight that greeted us:
Yes, that is scaffolding. With an overhead crane. To the far right are large cylinders of liquid nitrogen. Seriously. In the center is the Meat Forge- a wood-fired blast furnace. A flame-thrower stood ready to ignite the Meat Forge when the time was right. Out of frame the uber-smoker had been slow-cooking a few hundred pounds of prime rib all day to the perfect temperature.
While the demented cooks scurried about their preparations we snacked on the grilled vegetables and socialized, watching with some trepidation as the moment approached... First they filled a 55-gallon plastic drum with liquid nitrogen and wheeled it into position near the Meat Forge. The outside of the barrel was instantly coated with frost and a chill mist spilled from it's open top and drifted across the ground to the spectators. This was actually rather welcome as it helped combat the 90 degree heat of the afternoon. A man came out with the flamethrower and ignited the Meat Forge. While they were accomplishing this others removed the now perfectly-cooked prime ribs and brought them to the prep table where they were hooked together, two-by-two, with massive stainless steel hooks. These were then lifted by the overhead crane and carefully lowered into the barrel of liquid nitrogen, renewing the layer of fog in the backyard.
The now fully-engulfed Meat Forge was burning so hot that the nearby wooden platform on the scaffolding actually began to smoke and had to be continually wetted down with a hose lest it burst into flames.
After a carefully timed interval, just long enough to flash-freeze the outer layer of meat, the ribs were raised and lowered into the Meat Forge to sear the outside of the meat to perfection.
This is the Meat Forge- seven feet of electrically force-fed wood-fired hell.
The pairs of prime ribs were then lifted and brought to the serving table and sliced. This process was repeated again and again while we watched in awe. I mean come on! Meat and Fire, Gadgets and dangerous chemicals. If it had achieved the trifecta of guy-geekiness by being a competitive sport every man in the place would have swooned in a massive shared mangasm of testosterone poisoning.
Amazingly they pulled off this herculean feat with only one small explosion as liquid nitrogen shattered a block of concrete, but there were no injuries from the shrapnel. None that drew blood anyway.
The results? Amazing. A black-crusted slice of perfect, fork-tender medium-rare Prime Rib. Quite simply as good as the best I have ever eaten. Add to this the company, the other food and the floor-show it was an unforgettable afternoon. Thanks for the invite, Neil! I can't wait for next year...
Photos courtesy of Joe Brassy
Now that looks like a fun way to spend a summer afternoon!
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