Smokin’: US-style barbecue restaurants heat up in Aotearoa

The meat goes into the oven, and there it will sit - for two, six, up to 18 hours, until it's good and ready.

This isn't fast food. It's slow as can be, cooking over wood smoke to get to a tender savouriness. Once it does, barbecue lovers will tell you there's nothing quite like it.

'Low and slow' barbecue has its roots in American cuisine, particularly in the Deep South, where it's almost a religion.

Beef brisket, pork belly, chicken or ribs, bathed in top-secret sauces, spices or rubs, linger for hours in smokers at a steady heat until they reach a delicate peak.

It's both an art and a science, and every chef has their own style for turning meat into perfect barbecue.

A decade ago, you'd be hard pressed to find brisket cooked American-style to a melt-in-your-mouth masterpiece here in Aotearoa, but today there are restaurants and caterers around the country. These barbecue evangelists are on a mission to showcase the vast potentials of cooking meat low and slow.

This isn't your nana's Sunday roast.

"A roast is boring now," says chef Tristin Anderson of Smokey T's in Christchurch. Smokey T's has become one of New Zealand's most acclaimed barbecue joints since opening in 2018.

The style is far more than just tossing some sausages on your barbie.

"I grew up thinking a barbecue, like most Kiwis, was just a gas grill in a backyard," says Blair Wilson of Wilson Barbecue in Wellington. His business has grown from a food truck to a permanent shop in Johnsonville in 2021.

"There's a lot of good stuff out there happening around barbecue, and it's all what Kiwis like," says Clint Davies, who runs Morepork BBQ in Kumeū in West Auckland.

Many Kiwi chefs have made pilgrimages to the US to soak up barbecue secrets and forge their own techniques.

"I wanted to bring back the barbecue I'd experienced in the States," says Croydon Cole, chef and owner of Smokin Cole BBQ in Grey Lynn, Auckland.

On a frigid winter morning, it's t-shirt weather standing outdoors next to Cole's custom-built cooker as it simmers away on Friday night's offerings, with stacks of wood around to fuel the smoker.

There's a lot of patience involved in getting that brisket or a rack of ribs just right.

"We're running the smokers for about 18 hours a day, generally about half past four in the morning they're fired up," said Smokey T's Anderson.

"It's just a constant process really of keeping it moving. You've definitely got to love it, there's no hiding from the hard work involved."

Wilson says the lengthy cooking time creates unique tastes.

"It's just the flavour profile that you can't get anywhere else. The hours baked in smoke... it's kind of unmatched."

The long cook is "creating these layers of flavour which is what I classify as natural MSG," says Anderson.

So how did New Zealand chefs fall in love with the distinctively American style of low and slow?

For some, it was time spent in the US - Morepork's Davies worked at a Michelin-starred restaurant in San Francisco for several years before becoming a barbecue fan.

He ended up deciding to import the style back home, and convinced American Jodi Bourassa to emigrate and join him as head chef in the venture.

"When we first opened you could've walked down the street and asked 100 people what are four things you'd think about eating tonight, and not even one percent of them would've said barbecue, I'm sure," Davies says of the early days of Morepork around 2017.

Cole worked throughout the industry, including as sous chef at Auckland's Euro and as a chef on luxury yachts travelling around the world for clients like Sir Richard Branson, before setting up Smokin Cole in 2019.

He found himself in America at the end of one job and decided to get a motorcycle and take a barbecue tour through America's Deep South.

"I spent four months driving from the east coast to the west coast, through 14 states," he says.

Cole's food career had taken him through "every aspect of cooking," he said, but "the idea of working outside and working with fire is really what drew me and I wanted to combine it with cooking as a job".

Wellington's Wilson came from a different background, including stints working for McDonalds and Mitre 10. He first sampled American-style barbecue while store manager at a Mitre 10.

"That was my first ever taste of meat that had some smoke," he says.

"I purchased my first barbecue, which quickly grew to seven."

The relaxed culture of barbecue cuisine is nearly as important as the food itself - this isn't white tablecloth dining.

"It's quite casual, family friendly, very relaxed sort of environment," Wilson says.

Down south, Smokey T's has taken home the Canterbury Hospitality Award for Outstanding People's Choice restaurant four years in a row.

"Barbecue is all about community and family food," Anderson says.

Many restaurants started out as food trucks, and catering at events like weddings and Christmas parties is still a solid sideline for the pit masters.

While most won't be cooking up a dozen racks of ribs at home, the culture is still taking off on a smaller scale as people try their hand at slow cooking. There's also a growing competitive barbecue contest scene led by events such as Australian import Meatstock and groups like the New Zealand Barbecue Alliance.

Wilson Barbecue in Wellington offers how-to classes and other venues host plenty of social events, like Morepork's upcoming Oktoberfest.

Many restaurants also sell their unique sauces and rubs, giving home cooks a head start on their own low and slow adventure.

While low and slow has deep American roots, that hasn't stopped chefs from adding a little Kiwi accent to their creations.

"For me, with my cheffing background I decided to just twist things a little," says Cole.

For example, Smokin Cole does a spin on the American tradition of a side plate of collard greens by making a 'Kiwi collards' variation using smoked pork shoulder, puha and watercress, and serves pickled Māori squash kamokamo on the side of their 'meat candy' dish.

Many New Zealand barbecue joints also serve up lamb, which is less commonly seen in Stateside barbecue.

Sourcing both quality meat and good wood to fuel the smokers is a constant struggle.

Keeping those slow cookers going for hours and hours requires never-ending sources of fuel. Cole calls the hunt for wood "the bane of my life".

Each chef has a particular go-to as part of their own barbecue ritual. Davies' favourite for Morepork is apple wood when he can get it, while Cole swears by pōhutakawa.

"Pōhutakawa's my favourite - very hard, long burning wood with very sweet smoke that's not overpowering."

Some note that the cost of a good barbecue feed sometimes raises eyebrows - like everything else, it's been hit by inflation costs recently.

"You don't complain when you pay $45 for a 200-gram steak," Wilson says.

"But we've spent 12 hours cooking whereas your steak has spent about two minutes."

While barbecue can span everything from ribs to lamb to sausage, the experts say newcomers to the world of low and slow can't go wrong with a bit of beef brisket.

"We always go with the brisket, that's something people don't usually have in New Zealand," says Wilson.

"That's the star."

Another popular favourite is barbecued pork belly - Davies estimates Morepork sold 7.9 tonnes of it last year.

"Every event we go to, it's got pork belly on it."

For vegetarians, many restaurants have perfected the art of serving up pulled jackfruit as a flavourful, meat-free alternative that captures a great deal of the barbecue flavour.

While low and slow barbecue is growing, there's still room to educate people in New Zealand about what goes into it.

"Part of my next two-year goal is to really have people understand the process and how long it takes to produce this piece of brisket here," Davies says.

"We're 8 to 10 hours minimum before it's ready, but people don't see that."

In the end, it's passion that drives New Zealand's barbecue masters.

"There's no short cuts," said Smokey T's Anderson.

"We're lucky - we've been feeding the families and community now for six, seven years, and yeah... it doesn't feel like work."