Roundup should throw a bone to local BBQ

On Friday, I was asked to be a judge at the Cedar Rapids BBQ Roundup, which begins today.

Our entertainment scribe, Diana Nollen, couldn't make it, so the Roundup looked down the bench for a second-string columnist. Smoked pork does hold a very special place in my heart and probably my arteries. However, I haven't been to the Roundup, mainly because summer weekends seem to disappear at our house faster than a platter of delicious ribs.

But I've heard lots of talk about it over the years, some good, some not. So I thought, what the heck. After four years in town, I guess it's time to get a firsthand taste. I will be the judge of that.

Then, this week, the aroma of controversy mingled with hickory smoke.

KCRG-TV9's Dave Franzman shared the concerns of local pitmaster Tom Fuhrmeister, who runs Hawk Wild BBQ Co. in Marion. Fuhrmeister thinks there ought to be a place at the Roundup for local BBQ outfits alongside the eight national vendors who will be peddling pork through this weekend.

VenuWorks, which runs the event, says it picks the “big boys” because they have the capacity to feed legions of folks who come to the Roundup. Local smokers get the call only in the event of a cancellation.

I understand VenuWorks' argument, but I'm with Fuhrmeister. I can see why a big-boys-only policy rubs folks the wrong way. I think the event needs to figure out some way to throw locals a bone. Maybe, after my judging stint, I'll know more about how that might happen.

But I do have one idea marinating in my thinker. Perhaps big vendors are needed to handle the heavy lifting of feeding the multitudes. But what if the Roundup opened its contest segment to local BBQ outfits?

That could set up a tantalizing matchup between these national mammoths of mop sauce and our own hometown hog heroes for Cedar Rapids BBQ supremacy. I, for one, would be very interested to see that mouthwatering showdown. Imagine an underdog group of plucky pork-pullers toppling a national touring colossus. Just imagine.

No, no, those are not tears. It's the smoke, I swear.

Maybe I sympathize with these smaller outfits because of all the times I've sat around with buddies, in a cloud of apple wood smoke and a bunch of empty beer cans, floating grand plans to hit the BBQ circuit. Get some equipment, hone our techniques, hit a few contests, beg our wives to not hire lawyers. Guys who are actually doing it have my admiration.

And it's likely that the big boys started small. The Roundup could launch a local legend.