Touche, my friend. Just make sure to have a slightly eastward tilt to your cast.
Besides, this is such a delicious topic, all I needed was a whiff of the meat in the air to start sniffing around. I guess my favorite beef back ribs prep is to merely rub 'em with salt, pepper, a little ground chile, and a little turbinado sugar before a few hours on the offset. I like oak wood for fuel for all beef cooks, but walnut or fruit woods work just fine. Although I serve with sauce, I don’t apply any to the ribs while cooking. I’ve experimented with various mop sauces over time and like the hint of extra flavor I’ll get from bringing some bourbon and butter just to a boil.
Popping a few beef ribs into a low - 250ish - oven is a great way to have a tasty treat without any real effort. The kind of thing you can leave while re-caulking the tub or other such household repair-chores. Then, POOF! instant meaty-manly lunch reward right there for the taking. A 325 oven works great when there’re fewer projects to attend. When you think about it, they’re really quite forgiving at low temps - pretty much only need a smell test to recognize that it’s OK to eat (this also makes 'em a solid choice to prep when inebriation is slated to be the first course).
Another use, for me, is in making tomato sauces. Basically, just roast the ribs for an hour to get a little brownness and plop a couple into a big pot of simmering marinara. A few hours later, the meat has lent some deep-bass bottom notes to the sauce and the chef has a treat to gnaw while asking for patience from the rest of the household clamoring for dinner.
Moreover, there’s the bonus of the low prices at supermarkets around the Christmas and Easter Holiday sales. Most of our local shops will package them - both racks and individuals - for a steal. At a buck nineteen or so, I feel it almost an ethical obligation to stock up. Apparently, some of the less-culinarily inclined moms around here buy the whole prime ribs but have the butchers remove the bones - and DON’T want them.*
- It kinda makes you feel for the sad fellows that ponied-up for those fancy diamond rings . . . . Well, at least for the whole two seconds it takes before you start tossing packages of back ribs into your cart.