WHEN I WAS IN NIRVANA
and Nevermind came out, all of a
sudden I was making a ton of money,
which was something I never had.
So I bought a beach house in Nags
Head, NC, and spent the entire
summer of '92 there, eating Carolina
pulled pork from this tiny shack.
I realized, Oh, this is barbecue: so
simple, but sublime and complex.
I BROKE MY LEG FALLING OFF
stage during a Foo Fighters show four
years ago. When I got off tour, I had
nothing to do but mess around with a
Big Green Egg that our bassist Nate
got me. The first thing I tried was ribs
because that's what's on the Chili's
commercials. I got the dry rub, hit
them with smoke, and served them to
my kids. They loved it. I was hooked.
AFTER A FEW MONTHS, I WAS
hosting parties for 50 to 75 people.
The Egg was no longer big enough,
so I got a cabinet smoker, then
a Lang trailer rig from Georgia. I was
doing brisket and pork butt. At this
point, friends were saying, "Dave,
this is really good - you should open
a restaurant!" And I'm like, "I don't
know, that kinda sounds like a job."
WHAT REALLY GOT ME COOKING
for a crowd were the Malibu fires.
I wanted to cook for everyone
who was displaced. I ended up
barbecuing hundreds of pounds
of meat and bringing care packages
to the fire stations, just to say thank
you. Those guys were heroes.
THAT’S WHEN I HAD THE IDEA
for Backbeat BBQ, my one-man
catering company. I didn't want
to open a restaurant, but I did want
to pull up at a Slayer show or a
Harley dealership or a church or the
L.A. Food Bank benefit and cook.
It's kinda cool that I'm able to do
that - and it's fucking fun!
THE PROCESS OF MAKING MUSIC
is a lot like cooking for a crowd:
You create a recipe as you would
a song. You prepare a meal as you
would record in a studio. And
you serve it as you would perform
live. When people come back for
seconds, well, that's your encore.