Contemplating Condiments

I've been thinking a lot about condiments since reading Malcolm Gladwell's The Ketchup Conundrum. Gladwell notes the diversity of some kinds of condiments in comparison to ketchup, using mustard as his example. However, my most favorite condiment was generally absent from his examination, so I felt the need to do a little bit of thinking about barbecue sauce.


In my experience at least, barbecue sauce falls somewhere on a continuum between Gladwell's descriptions of mustard (in which people are interested in a variety of types beyond standard yellow mustard, like Dijon mustard or hot mustard or sweet mustard) and ketchup (in which apparently everyone wants the basic Heinz ketchup, even if we believe we should want something different). Barbecue sauce certainly comes in a huge variety of styles, but at least in the United States, we tend to opt for one of the slightly varied Kansas City style sauces. You know the one. The style of barbecue sauce that gets served in huge bowls as a lunch accompaniment in the dining hall, and which gets labelled "original" flavor by some brands, to distinguish it from their other less popular types. Unlike the case of ketchup, there does not seem to be a specific brand that can lay claim to the majority of barbecue sauce sales, but people do seem to look for less variety when it comes to barbecue sauce, at least when they are purchasing a bottle at the store for consistent consumption at home.

My thoughts about barbecue sauce in relation to ketchup were inspired by the fact that my personal experiences with them have been somewhat similar. Just as I would genuinely choose to purchase Heinz ketchup, even if there were other unique ketchups that I was initially more interested in, I would take a standard Kansas style barbecue sauce from the store over a much more interesting version if I intended to use it for an extended period. I know this to be true, because I once tried my hand at homemade barbecue sauce.

Every year, my family used to go to the San Diego County Fair. Now, there are all kinds of ways in which the County Fair and food intersect. Fair food is a category all its own, plus there are generally all sorts of eating competitions, and in this case, also cooking competitions. The fair gives free admission to anyone entering a contest, so most years, my family and I pick a contest and set about putting together our entries. We often enter the art categories, constructing animals out of produce, or making mosaics, but in the year in question, we decided upon the barbecue sauce competition. My brother and mother stuck fairly close to the Kansas City style, while my father decided to go with a spicier, Mexican inspired recipe, and I set out to comb food blogs for something new and different. I settled eventually on an Orange Coriander Bourbon Barbecue Sauce.

Orange Coriander Bourbon Barbecue Sauce

(slightly adapted from Joy the Baker)

First, you want to chop a medium sized onion, keeping in mind that the size of the pieces of onion will effect the consistency of the sauce (though you can always use a blender later if need be to smooth it out). I would recommend using a sweet vidalia onion here, because this is a sweet sauce so why not, but it's really up to you. Then you're going to saute your onion with some olive oil for a few minutes. After that, add in two cloves of garlic, minced, or about a teaspoon of jarred minced garlic if it's already 9 PM the night before your barbecue sauce competition and you just don't have the patience for mincing garlic. Then it gets really simple, because all you have to do is just mix in the rest of your ingredients: 1/2 cup bourbon (I used Maker's Mark, because that's what we had around), 1/2 cup orange juice (I'd recommend getting the kind without pulp, or straining the pulp out beforehand), 1/2 cup cider vinegar, 1 cup ketchup (Heinz, obviously, because that's what's in the fridge), 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/4 cup molasses (this can be skipped in favor of a little more brown sugar if you don't keep molasses around), 2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce (the vegetarian kind, in my case, since I wanted to be able to taste it, though I knew the competition was going to involve tasting it with meat), 1/2 teaspoon orange zest (fresh, or if you're lazy and you have it around, from a jar, or even skipped all together. Hey, sometimes you just don't have the energy or desire to zest an orange), 3/4 teaspoon ground coriander, 1 teaspoon coarse ground black pepper, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Then simply stir until your mixture is simmering. Cook for 30-45 minutes, or however long you need to be happy with the consistency.

Now, I don't want to brag here... but my barbecue sauce won the competition. The judges were apparently as impressed as I'd hoped they'd be with the unique flavor profile. However, this is where my ketchup comparison comes in. I loved this barbecue sauce. Judges loved this barbecue sauce, and chose it over the more traditional ones some of my other family members made. But then, it was time to contend with the left overs. Since the recipe informed me that the "mixture can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to a week," I figured I'd better make sure it got eaten, so in the next few days I made some meals that would be appropriately accompanied by barbecue sauce. I am unhappy to report that, just like with ketchup, I was tired of it after two meals. It was too distinctive. I wanted my standard Kansas City sauce back. So while I absolutely recommend this recipe if you want to make something special and unique, I would never buy it in a store if someone made a bottled version. And I bet most of those County Fair judges wouldn't either.