• dry mustard — check
• cider vinegar — check
• yellow mustard — a staple for some, but we didn't have any. Better pick that up.*
• cayenne — running low, better pick up some more
• brown sugar — again, running low. buy more.
Note the asterisk. This is important.
I made my trip to the store, hurried home and prepared my dry rub. Slathered it all over that pork shoulder. Put that pork shoulder in a roasting pan and got it roasting. Sat back and relaxed, it was the weekend after all and the pork would be porkolating for six hours. Plenty of time. The afternoon was whiled away, enjoying some sun and a couple of beers in preparation for barbecue supper. With one hour of cooking to go, I moseyed into the kitchen to whip up the sauce. It's easy. Here's the recipe:
Cider Vinegar Barbecue Sauce:
- 1 1/2 cups cider vinegar
- 1 cup yellow or brown mustard
- 1/2 cup ketchup
- 1/3 cup packed brown sugar
- 2 garlic cloves, smashed
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1 teaspoon cayenne
- 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
I began to combine away: in went the vinegar, then some mustard… but wait… no… it can't be… heavens to Murgatroyd! We had no ketchup. WE HAD NO KETCHUP. I shoved around all those condiment bottles that live on the refrigerator door, making quite a racket: pickles, chili-garlic paste, olives, sweet relish, dijon, grainy mustard, green curry paste, horseradish, capers, black bean-chili sauce, maple syrup, assorted jams, Hellman's AND Miracle Whip (that's a-whole-nother condiment story altogether).
We have lived in this apartment for six months and had no ketchup. We cook a lot. We eat at home a lot. I mean, A LOT. And yet, somehow, some way, we've gone six months without ketchup. No yellow mustard? Okay, understandable. I don't really like it anyway. But no ketchup seemed impossible. I hurried to the computer to see what it would take to whip up my own ketchup. Time—that's what it would take. And we didn't have it. I had been in relaxing mode and now the pork was almost done. Running right alongside my panic and the boy's speedy dash to the store for said missing ingredient, I have to say I felt a little, well … yes, pride. There, I've said it. Is that just plain un-American?