Thoughts While Judging in NH, Part 1
Last Sunday I judged the KCBS barbecue contest at the Anheuser-Busch grounds in Merrimack NH. The weather was perfect, the barbecue was good and it was a great opportunity to make new friends and re-connect with old ones. Here’s just a sample of what was trickling through my mind as I judged.
The scoring
Each of the meats is judged for appearance, taste and tenderness, on a scale of 2 to 9 (there is no such thing as a perfect 10; a 1 is reserved for disqualifications). Assigning a score is a lot harder than you’d think, because the scores typically wind up being 6s, 7s and 8s, with an occasional 9 or 5. The resulting narrow margin of actual scores makes every point count that much more.
In the sport of boxing, most rounds are scored 10-9, with a knockdown required to get a 10-8 round; 10-7 rounds are practically unheard of. This means that not all 10-9 rounds are alike. Barbecue scoring is often very similar: two ribs can both be scored an 8 for taste even though one is noticeably better, just because there’s such a narrow range used. KCBS recently changed the way judges approach the numbers to achieve a greater separation in the scores. Instead of starting at a 9 with points taken off for imperfections, every entry now starts as a 6 and can get bumped up or down accordingly. That’s how I was trained, that’s how I judge and that’s how I think it should be. A score of 6 is considered average, so you’ve really got to earn those 8s and 9s from me. I don’t look at it as penalizing the cooks to whom I give a 7 instead of an 8. I look at it as rewarding the cooks who earned my 8s and 9s by not giving them away to everyone else too.
Chicken
Of the six chicken entries I judged, four boxes had thighs, one had wings and one had slices. This is typical, as most teams submit thighs, since they cook evenly, remain moist and fit easily into the box. I’ve occasionally seen wings, more often seen legs and a few times a combination of legs and thighs (each of the 6 judges can pick the desired piece while still available). If I were competing, I’d always submit thighs—for the reasons stated above as well as my success rate with them.
Pork Ribs
Of the six rib entries I judged, three boxes had babybacks, two had St Louis cut and one had a meaty loin back rib. I’ve seen babybacks before, but this was the first time they were in the majority. I like when a team presents the ribs in a way that lets you see not only the sauced tops but also the unsauced sides. Spares are the longest and the meatiest, but they’re risky for competition: they cook unevenly, they have pockets of fat that may wind up in a judge’s only bite and it’s hard to fit six or more into the box. If I were competing, I’d always submit St Louis ribs—but I’d make sure what they lacked in length they made up for in height.
Pork Shoulder
Of the six pork entries I judged, four boxes had a combination of strings and bark, one box had just slices and one box had slices and strings. I like variety, because it makes the presentation look better and gives me more ways to reward you for appearance, taste and texture. One well known competitor from New York once told me that he sometimes presents five different pork options for competition. If I were competing, I probably wouldn’t offer that much variety, but I’d be sure to offer a few different looks and tastes. After all of the score sheets were turned in, our table had mixed opinion on that box with just slices. One judge thought it was the best entry of the six, another judge or two thought it was okay and a few other judges (myself included) thought the meat was overcooked and over sauced. Different strokes for different folks, I guess, but that’s what makes it fun. And neither camp is right or wrong.
Brisket
Of the six brisket entries I judged, five boxes had slices and one had a combination of pulled brisket and smaller slices. In the past I’ve seen thick slices, thin slices, burnt ends, chunks, chopped brisket and thin brisket strings. Again, the more options you give me, the more chances you have to score well. When two kinds of meat are presented (say, slices and chunks), there’s differing opinion, even among trained judges, as to whether you’re supposed to average the two mental scores or score based on whichever of the two you like best.
For each the first three meats that day, my highest score wound up going to the fourth of the group, but the brisket broke that string. The fourth entry here had falling-apart brisket slices on a just few shreds of lettuce (all entries are garnished) that didn’t come close to covering the bottom of the box. If the meat looked good, the lettuce wouldn’t matter, but a half-assed garnish makes no sense. Either do it right or have the balls to go with no garnish at all (I’d score Hill Country’s sliced brisket a 9 if it came un-garnished). Another interesting entry in the brisket category looked great but was very tough. But the thing that really made it interesting was that it was sliced so thick. Thick slices are usually a ploy to mask overcooked brisket to keep it from falling apart, just as extra thin slices are a way of dealing with tough brisket. This cook did it the other way around and it cost him points.



