Wine and the Burning Beast Barbeque

A few weeks ago, Allrecipes' Managing Editor, Frances, and I were lucky enough to attend a kind of barbeque happening on a farm about an hour outside of Seattle.

It was called "Burning Beast"--a play on (or tribute to) the bacchanal Burning Man festival, which takes place every year deep in the desolate Black Rock Desert of Nevada.

You would not easily confuse the lush farmland of western Washington with the dried-up lake bed of Nevada. And the Burning Beast mascot--the 6-foot-tall beast cobbled together from stray wood and destined to be bon-fired at the end of the evening--you would not confuse with the enormous, eponymous "burning man" structure that sends an 80-foot wall of flames shooting above the playa. Still, the farm was a place for creativity, a great opportunity for some of Seattle's most artistic chefs to show their stuff, and get a wicked tan at the same time.

And it was a great chance for me to load a cooler full of wines and match my batch against all manner of grilled meats and seafood. I packed it with rosé, Syrah, and Zinfandel--the Three Amigos of the great American barbeque.

I picked screw-capped wines because (a) they're so incredibly convenient, and, perhaps more importantly, (b) I did not fully trust myself to remember a corkscrew. No doubt about it, picnics and barbeques are the perfect venue for screw-capped wine! There's nothing fussy or phony about this kind of outdoor, paper-plate dining. No need to fret that some vague quality of "romance" might be diminished because you're not pulling cork.

Burning Beast was the brain child of Tamara Murphy, the owner of Brasa in Seattle. She and a covey of chefs from some of Seattle’s more interesting restaurants (Tilth, Sitka & Spruce, Corson Building, Art of the Table, Serafina) busied themselves tending all manner of meats and seafood over open flames.

I've never seen so many carcasses set over white-hot coals: goat, a pork-stuffed pig, several lambs, rabbit (in the form of sausage), ducks, mackerels, sardines, octopus, mussels, and oysters.

Special mention goes to Matt Dillon of Sitka & Spruce and the Corson Building, who butterflied two goats, stuffed them with a meat-based filling, and then sewed them together--beast, indeed! But a delicious beast!

So what wines went with what? Well, without doubt the rosé was the belle of the barbeque. It went with everything, working across the full spectrum, from the sweet, smoked oysters to the slightly gamey goat. It was spot-on delicious every time. And it was the easiest drinking wine, too--a potentially dangerous benefit. (To disclose fully, there was no small amount of standing around and drinking in between food stations.) The friendly folks at Art of the Table were generous enough to refill me from their own limited stash of tasty Greek rosé--which proved the perfect complement to their delicious lamb.

I'd stuffed the Zin and Syrah into the ice chest, too, and they were a little cool, but very good that way on a warm, sunny day. Brought down a few degrees, these hearty wines were particularly delicious with the goat, the lamb, and the rabbit sausages.

After the feasting, the beast fashioned of wood was gleefully set aflame, and then set upon by booze- and barbeque-addled folks wielding sticks, marshmallows affixed to the pointy ends.

I missed out on the marshmallows, though. I was already heading for home with my empty ice chest. Next time, I'll stick around for breakfast. They tell me there was some delicious bacon on hand, courtesy of Zoe's Meats. I'd like to try a few thick strips with a glass of Oregon Pinot Noir. Nothing like a little hair of the burning beast.