Photography by Samantha Demangate
In this article, I’d like to spew some anger. I’m taking this opportunity to belittle gas and electric grills and how MOST people do BBQ in the United States by introducing the art form of the parrilla.
Now, I know people are busy. And yes, of course, eating red meat is horrible for the planet and we should all get used to sautéing insects by now. But, if we’re going to consume meat, why not treat it with some respect? If you’re not pressed for time or stressed out to the max, don’t be lazy. Get that flavorful wood out and start building that fire. Cooking with fire will always be more impressive and produce more delicious barbecue than cooking with gas, end of story. And when you’ve put in all that work and achieved rich, smoky flavors, you and your crew of happy eaters will be ecstatic and proud.
I’m a lifelong student in the world of BBQ. What hard fought knowledge I’ve learned has always pointed me towards fire. It takes time, patience, and respect. Plus the flavors fire and smoke produce in, not only meat, but vegetables and fruits are incredible.
Recently, I’ve fallen in love with the Argentine and Uruguayan method of cooking with fire. Since moving to South America, I’ve been obsessed with the respected gastronomic legacy of the Pampas, Andes, and Patagonian wilderness. This cuisine revolves around the incredible art form called Parrilla.
There’s a huge cooking movement surrounding parrilla, spurred by chefs like the Argentine Francis Mallmann. Mallmann now owns several pioneering parrilla restaurants that have taken the world by storm and he’s considered one of the world’s top chefs. His promotion of fire as the ultimate method of cooking that speaks to our primal instincts and forges a relationship between us, our food, and our environment has inspired many people to change the way they cook.
The Parrilla Story
In Argentina and Uruguay, the term parrilla refers to a wood grill and often a steakhouse. The artform of the parrilla and the asado—the entire social event of the BBQ—originated with the South American cowboys known as the gauchos. These weathered ranchers mastered the use of fire to cook to perfection the delicious cuts of meat they had from their free range cattle. In the vast plains stretching from Argentina, Uruguay, and Brazil known as the pampas, the gauchos use native wood to create the perfect heat source for slow-cooking their meat.
Since the early 20th century, beef has been the region’s primary export. Free range and grass-fed, the cattle raised here are special. Happy and healthy animals produce delicious meat and the gauchos always use every part. Even today, grillers pile their parrillas with blood sausage (morcilla), tripe, liver, and other flavorful bits that North Americans often waste.
Spices were never important to the gauchos because of their nomadic way of life. However, the one indispensable seasoning that made it into their cargo was salt. Steakhouses in the region began serving the grilled meat with their own new staple condiment, chimichurri. This herb based condiment comprises oregano, garlic, parsley, olive oil, and vinegar. The origins of the sauce most likely lie with Basque immigrants, although there are several urban legends about its origins.
Crafting the Perfect Parrilla
It’s a blustery day by the beach in La Paloma, Uruguay. I’m attempting a parrilla full of free-range beef, blood sausage, entrails, onions, carrots, potatoes, and a large kabocha squash ready to be turned into a fondue with fresh cheese and cream.
A slow buildup of heat begins after I lay the small twigs of local pine into the flame. One by one, they ignite, sending the fire higher into the grill. Higher still as I put the thicker pieces of wood on top of the newly formed coals at the base. The parrilla is now a tower of burning wood.
As the thicker pieces of wood become coals, I move them into a circle at the base of the grill, leaving the towering fire to the side to char the squash. Next, I slowly place my meat and vegetables seasoned with salt on the grill. Drops of fat and juices hit the coals, creating an infectious, searing sound.
Now it’s all about time. Patiently waiting while the heat and smoke create a flavorful crust around the meat. The vegetables soften and absorb the wood smoke.
After about 1.5 hours, the squash is soft. I cut off the lid, scoop out the seeds, and add local cheese, salt, and cream to the flesh. I carefully set it back on the parrilla to cook some more.
After two hours, everything is ready. In this labor of love, I created a bouquet of juicy morsels. There’s nothing like dipping the carrots and potatoes in a smoky kabocha fondue and washing down morcilla and a thick cut of beef with local tannat wine.
The History and Tradition of Cooking With Fire
Almost two million years ago, humans began cooking their food over open fire. The act of putting our food onto a heat source changed its chemical composition and made it easier for our bodies to digest its nutrients. According to anthropologists, this was a major step in increasing our brain size.
According to some estimates, over 3 billion people still use fire as their primary method of cooking. Unfortunately, most people in the United States rely on gas and, sadly, in my experience, many people are never taught how to create a fire. Like the younger version of myself, most Americans associate BBQs with gas grills or charcoal grills fueled with excessive lighter fluid. We’ve become accustomed to the taste of propane and butane in our food, not to mention the poor quality of it.
It took me leaving the United States to realize how satisfying fire is to cook with. You feel different. You put in work, sometimes hours of it, and when it all comes together, it can feel rejuvenating.
A Plea for Good Grilling Culture
Let’s face the fact that eating red meat will eventually become less feasible. That’s ok. There are plenty of other delicious things that we can cook over flame. Let’s not lose this tradition. Afterall, what could be better than skewered mealworms roasted á la parrilla.
