Meatpocalypse is here!
A look behind an annual festival of meat
Happy Saturday!
I let Ed take the reins of the newsletter’s body today to share one of his passions: Meatpocalypse. If the timing is correct, the smoker and grills are fired up.
Before I let him begin rambling on, we’re still in the midst of Dry January, so just two more Saturdays before jumping back into booze interviews. The last two Saturdays this month should be good ones!
But here are some interesting reads about Dry January, including one from the New York Times Wine Columnist Eric Asimov. In it, Asimov asked, “What happens when your passion and life’s work are called a health risk?”
The NYT also dives into what “soberish” means as more and more warnings about alcohol emerge.
CNET dives into 9 Ways Giving Up Alcohol for a Month Can Improve Your Health.
How does the current sober-curious movement differ from the movement that caused Prohibition? Leave it to The Atlantic to tackle that one. (Editor’s Note: Kinda fun; they link to a 2021 article about “America Has a Drinking Problem” and one from 1921 about “Relative values in Prohibition.”
For me, I’ve still been drinking bitters and soda, and today, I’ll take some Heineken 0.0, or perhaps Guinness 0.0, to Meatpocalypse. Speaking of which….
The Armageddon of Meat
It all started in 2021.
My cousin Mark and I needed to smoke some meat, drink some drinks, and enjoy some company. It was winter, and we were coming out of the COVID-19 lockdown.
We wanted to do something social, so we organized three of us to do just that: Mark, a man named Blue, and I would make a day and night of it. (Founding Father Vijay was brought on board a year later).
We planned it for a Saturday in mid-January. I offered to host it at my house in Allendale, Michigan. Over the next few weeks, we developed some guidelines and rules. Most of them are still enforced today:
We all smoke one rack of ribs.
There will be nothing but protein cooked.
We will light the smoker between 10:30 a.m. and 11:00 a.m.
Everyone will spend the night (if drinking all day).
Everyone will bring other proteins to grill.
No prep of protein at Meatpocalypse. Everything brought is ready to go on the grill.
Everyone will BYOB.
Wives are welcomed; we are inclusive, after all. (They largely have opted not to go; Wives of Meatpocalypse has now been formed.)
Invite a few friends.
That is how Meatpocalyse started.
Meatpocalyse: Fellowship between friends and protein, with delicious drinks and the occasional smoke.
Let me set the scene better. In the driveway on a crisp Saturday, there is an Oklahoma Joe offset smoker, a regular charcoal grill, a driveway fire pit, a couple of folding tables, and some lawn chairs.
On that chosen morning, we light the smoker, which aligns with the first toast, now a shot of Malort, a real-life sponsor of Meatpocalypse!
The ribs are usually prepared the night before. The smoker gets up to temperature fairly quickly, and the ribs are cooked using the 3-2-1 method. (Editor’s Note: That method involves three hours of smoking, two hours of braising wrapped in foil, and then smoking unwrapped again for an hour.)
Then, the regular charcoal grill gets lit. We always start with 1½ pounds of thick-cut peppered bacon. From then on, the grill is free for anyone to put on whatever they bring, continuing throughout the day.
When the bacon is put on, that is generally when the first drink finds our hands. There is a pretty good bar selection, with many different beers, vodka, gin, bourbon, and, as of 2024, Malort.
Some of the grilled meats that the smoky flames have touched are:
Andouille sausage: This sausage is skewered and spiral-scarred, allowing the charcoal flavor to penetrate the meat while cooking. It is then sliced into bite-size pieces.
Bratwurst: A local meat market has a variety of flavors, including Philly steak, mild Italian, hot Italian, cheddar with jalapenos, etc. They are cut into bite-size pieces. DO NOT forget that even with charcoal, you must constantly watch once the sausage starts spitting.
Chicken wings: Whole wings are processed the night before, soaked in buttermilk and Frank’s overnight. They start briefly on the smoker, cook in indirect heat on the grill, and finish on high heat to crisp the skin. There is usually a couple of different flavors to toss them.
Shotgun shells: Uncooked jumbo rigatoni shells stuffed with sausage and cheddar or cream cheese mix are wrapped with bacon and added to the smoker to start, then finished on the charcoal.
Shrimp skewers: Peeled and deveined raw shrimp; thawed the night before and marinated in olive oil, fresh garlic, cracked pepper, salt, and crushed red pepper. They cook in a flash. DO NOT OVERCOOK.
Bologna cubes: Thick-cut deli bologna (about ½ inch) cubed and skewed. Placed in the smoker for five minutes. Moved to the charcoal grill for some extra flavor
As the meat cooks, the music plays, the fire crackles in the driveway, the smoke is piquant, and the drinks flow like an artesian well. Guests arrive eager to taste the next protein and cook their creations. Some stop in, stay for a while, and leave, but it is always hard to step away once you are here.
The grill is open for anyone to cook. If they don’t want to be the grill master, someone will be happy to step up, grab the tongs, and ensure the meat is served with all the love and care it deserves.
The day lasts for 12 hours or longer. As the day goes on, the event starts to take on its own personality. People come and go, shots are poured, meat is cooked and eaten, and stories are told.
As the fire throws off much-needed heat, the speaker plays good vibes. No one gets upset about the music playing, ranging from reggae and rap to adult-alt rock and country. No one cares, and no one gets upset when asked for different music.
The weather has been cooperative for this annual event. It can be cold, but we are ready for that. The dishwasher runs a few times throughout the day. Most of the proteins are eaten directly from the grill. One of the things we look forward to is what new and fun meats people bring.
We constantly add charcoal to the grill and smoker; we expect to use four 20-pound bags of charcoal for the day.
By the time we get halfway through the two-hour cooking stage in foil, we are not so attentive to the ribs. That being said, they always turn out delicious.
Once the bacon goes on, meat is constantly being cooked. We attempt to cook everything that is brought. That means something is always on the grill. This is why we had to limit proportion sizes. We learned this in the second year of Meatpocalypse as we expanded the guest list. People brought 12 marinated chicken legs, a dozen brats, four or five beautiful steaks, or crockpots of chili. Although everything was excellent, the amount got out of hand.
The ribs finish around 5 or 6, which is the apex of the Meatpocalypse, but it is in no way the end.
As the day continues into the evening, it gets darker and colder, and the event moves inside. This has the feel of a new party. Cooking becomes more challenging because we aren’t standing around the grills. As this happens, the air fryer comes into play.
More meat? Yes, please!
Another drink? Yes, please!
Yes, a lot of meat is consumed. Almost everyone has meat sweats and maybe a hangover the following day. We now have new stories that, no matter who you tell, they are always interested in being there next year. People laugh about how much meat we eat or sometimes what we grill. People say they need to do something like that with their group.
There are not many pictures taken of the people. This has nothing to do with anything besides the fact that this group is about living in the moment. We have a hard enough time remembering what is on the grill, what needs to go on it, and when to take it off.
However, we all have a photo folder full of meat on the grill from the last four years.
Every year, the popularity of Meatpocalypse grows a little more. Someday, maybe there will be an ad on the radio about Meatpocalyse this Saturday at the local ballpark. Maybe there will be a call to action to contact a number to have a meat booth or to buy presale tickets that are $5 cheaper than at the gate.
Until then, Meatpocalypse will only be a whisper in a dark alley, a folk song that no one knows, or just an urban legend: Just four guys who enjoy eating meat, telling stories, drinking drinks, and smoking with good people.