For George Siu and Park Heffelfinger, a pulled-pork sandwich changed the course of history. Returning to Vancouver from New Orleans 10 years ago, they stopped over at the Memphis airport. Hungry, they lined up at Jim Neely’s Interstate Barbecue, a hopping joint in the terminal.

Back on the plane, Siu was seated at the front, Heffelfinger at the rear. “It was pretty funny, because the smell just wafted over the plane and everybody said, ”˜Wow! We get barbecue!’ ” Heffelfinger says in a phone interview. The two unwrapped the sandwiches and, as Siu describes it, “I take one bite, and it was almost simultaneous. I look back, he looks up front, and we both just smiled a huge grin, like, ”˜Yeah, this is it.’”¦we’ve got to do this in Vancouver.”

The pair founded Memphis Blues Barbeque House in 2001 (www.memphisbluesbbq.com/), which now has three Lower Mainland locations, and just released Memphis Blues Barbeque House: Bringin’ Southern BBQ Home (Whitecap, 2008) to bring southern comfort into backyards everywhere.

Memphis Blues Classic Barbecue Sauce

Most barbecue joints have a signature sauce. This is ours. We have received many requests for a bottled version, which we are planning on offering one day. Right now, our focus is on keeping up with the demand in our restaurants.

Makes one cup (250 ml).

• 2 tablespoons (30 ml) tomato paste
• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) dark brown or Demerara sugar
• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) molasses
• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) white vinegar
• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) honey
• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) ketchup
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) yellow mustard
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) Worcestershire sauce
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) onion powder
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) Lawry’s Seasoned Salt
• a dash of Louisiana-style hot sauce
• ½ cup (125 ml) water

Combine all the ingredients in a saucepan. Whisk thoroughly or combine with a hand-held blender to ensure that there are no lumps. Simmer over low heat while stirring frequently for one hour (this pasteurizes the sauce). Cool for at least one hour before transferring to an airtight container for storage. Store for up to one month in the refrigerator.

Adapted from Memphis Blues Barbeque House: Bringin’ Southern BBQ Home, by George Siu and Park Heffelfinger (Whitecap, 2008). Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.

At the Broadway restaurant, Siu says that Canadians associate barbecuing with grilling steaks and hamburgers, but southern barbecue is “all about indirect heat and smoke”. The Memphis-style recipes require long, slow cooking, such as eight hours for a five-pound brisket.

But waiting is all part of the experience. “Barbecue is not a cuisine; it’s a culture,” Siu explains. While the meat cooks, friends and families enjoy each other’s company. “They come over at noon and you eat at seven.”

The two honed their technique over years of obsessive experimentation. They also ate their way through Memphis, crashing the 2001 World Championship Barbecue Cooking Contest. Although contestants are famously secretive—“In that world, there’s a lot of espionage,” Siu says—the pair bonded with several and learned a lot.

First off: make friends with fat. “Let’s face it: fat tastes great,” Siu says. “It’s one of those sins.” He explains that the fat renders through as the meat cooks slowly, “basically keeping everything moist through the whole process”. A lean brisket, in contrast, will yield “shoe leather”.

Never parboil ribs for faster cooking. “All the flavours leach out and the meat toughens up,” he says. Slow-cooked meat is “soft and creamy”¦the texture is totally different.” A pink smoke ring indicates proper cooking.

Siu says that you don’t need a water smoker to make great barbecue—but “you do need the smoke”. Create it with your gas grill and a wood-chip smoker box sold at hardware stores. “The key is patience, indirect heat, and don’t keep lifting the lid,” he says, because doing so seesaws temperatures. Don’t poke the meat, either, because that releases precious juices.

However, southern barbecue is a “balance between being patient and waiting too long”. The book gives time guidelines, but Siu says “it’s not an exact science.” He advises beginners to start with a game hen or a chicken, proceed to ribs, and then challenge a brisket.

Using a dry rub seasons the meat and provides a protective crust. He calls the book’s all-purpose dry rub “just sensational”. The Memphis Blues classic barbecue sauce recipe is also in the book, although Siu admits that it’s “close, but not exactly the same” as the restaurant’s—barbecue secrets die hard. (See recipe above.)

Sommelier Heffelfinger says by phone that he likes to complement barbecue with wine rather than beer. “My first preference for barbecue is Riesling, because it has that sweet-sour Granny Smith apple flavour,” he says, which goes particularly well with ribs, pulled pork, and sausages.

Siu says that people bond over southern barbecue in the same way they do over the communal Chinese meals he was raised on. According to Siu, food really can change the world.

“We wouldn’t have wars if they just got all those guys [world leaders] together and had a barbecue,” he says, laughing. “It would be like,” he makes a sweeping, conciliatory gesture, “Hey, man, have a rib.”