This Weekend's BBQed Chicken

We been running errands all day, but while we were at it I had 10 lb. of chicken hind quarters sitting in Cajun spices, "woo" sauce, lemon juice, and a beer.  Planning on taking advantage of the last day of late sunshine, and putting them on the grill.

With Alley-gater, and Pourky the "Q" mascots looking on, I fired up da chimney.

With natural chunk hard wood charcoal by the air intake on the left and an aluminum pan on the other side, I put the chicken and the required Cajun sausage over the pan of water, opened a beer and got the Blues on the outdoor speakers.

The stuff the chicken was soaking in went into a small pot and with half a stick of butter, and was brought to a simmer on the stove.  It will be used as a mop later, but ya need to simmer it 'cause of the chicken blood it may contain.  Ya can't be too careful.  It's been down for 30 minutes and from my hand on the pit, feels around 180 degrees.  Country boy thermometer when ya can lay ya hand down for a sec. or so 'fore ya gotta snatch it off da pit, is 180-200 degrees.

OK, mopped them, flopped them, mopped them again.  See 'em again in an hour.  Now, where did I put my beer?

Naturally, at the 1.5 hour we couldn't stand it no more and took the Cajun sausage in, sliced it up and are nibbling on it as we dance on da carport jamming to da Blues.

After 2 hours we mopped them, flipped them,

 

and mopped for the last time.  Got another beer and are enjoying the end of a beautiful day.

Well, da sausage was "slap yo mama good", and da chicken is getting right. Won't be long now; it's been like, 8 beers, so it aughta be getting close.

Alrighty, afta 3 hours we grabbed a leg bone and twisted, and it came apart in our hand.  So we called it "did'.  Cookin' temperature?  Not sure; if it woulda been more than 220, the water in the pan under the chicken woulda boiled and let me know.  If it hadda been less than 180, I coulda held my hand on the lid for more than a second.  Internal temperature??  Who cares.  Twist a leg bone and ya can tell if it's done or  not.  Now we got chicken to last the weekend, and share with the neighbors.  Only problem is....I am outa Beer.