Tacos for ten, and why the sides matter

Last weekend I cooked brunch for ten, built around a taco station. Pork belly, tri-tip and chicken for the tacos, two racks of St. Louis ribs on the side, and a romaine salad with my soy lime vinaigrette. Everyone liked the food. That's the short version, and it's true, but it's not the useful part.

The smoker ran slow

Four cuts on one pit cook slower than any one of them alone. Each one soaks up heat, and every time the lid opens it costs more. The tri-tip took four hours to reach 150°F on a full pit. On an empty pit, the timing I usually start from holds. So I've added the lesson to every smoked recipe on this site: with a full pit, budget an extra one to two hours.

One note on the belly: my probe was giving a misleading reading because it was sitting in a fat seam. Moved into the meat, it read 175. It went into a 350°F oven, wrapped, to finish at 203, and then held in a warm oven until we ate. With three ovens, holding was easy. With one, I'd have needed a cooler and towels.

I changed the tri-tip halfway through

The plan was tri-tip smoked like a brisket: taken all the way to probe-tender. At 136°F I changed my mind. My family likes their beef medium-well, and a thin-sliced medium-well tri-tip chops cleanly into a taco, where brisket-tender would have shredded. I pulled it at 150°F, rested it with the foil cracked so carryover didn't run away, and sliced it last.

The brisket version is still a great recipe. It's just not a brunch-deadline recipe, and it's not a taco recipe.

Thin slicing makes the food go further

Slicing is how you stretch a crowd cook. Sliced thin and chopped, the same amount of meat feeds noticeably more people. A thick slice is one serving. The same meat chopped fine fills three tacos, and nobody feels shorted.

The chicken came off the grill last and got chopped straight away with its board juices and a squeeze of lime. The belly was cubed. The tri-tip was sliced thin against the grain and then chopped.

The ribs were a nice counterpoint. Not everyone wants a taco, and a rack of ribs gives people a second way to eat. They ran on my usual three-hour method: 90 minutes bare, 60 wrapped with just sauce, and 20 to 30 minutes unwrapped to set the glaze.

The sides carry the table

A taco station lives or dies on what's around the meat. Smoked meat is rich, and after the second taco everything starts to taste the same unless something cuts through it.

That something is acid. Lime on the chicken, the soy lime vinaigrette on the salad, and plenty of brightness in everything else on the table. Acid also keeps the sides tasting fresh while they sit out through a long brunch.

The sides deserve the same planning as the meat. They're what makes ten people go back for another plate instead of stopping at one.

What I'd tell anyone cooking for a crowd

• A full pit runs slow. Plan the extra time before the day, not during it.
• Hold the meat whole and slice it at the last moment. Sliced meat dries out on the board.
• Slice thin and chop. The food goes further and fits the taco.
• Give people a second option, like ribs, for anyone who doesn't want a taco.
• Put acid in everything that isn't meat.