Hot dogs!

It's July 4th... barbecue time, writes HUGO ARNOLD.

It's July 4th ... barbecue time, writes HUGO ARNOLD.

BARBECUES THE length and breadth of the US will be lit today to commemorate the country’s Declaration of Independence back in 1776. This primal method of cooking, as old as the hunting employed to catch the ingredients used, lies at the heart of US life – and we have been far from shy at incorporating its ease and sense of occasion. But for something that appears so easy, are there tricks we are missing?

Man and apron may be a cliche, but as in all cliches there is some truth. Light fire, or turn on gas, throw on some meat and hey presto, everything is ready. We may have to dodge the showers, but who cares when the food is this good.

Yet for a cooking method as crude as this, there is a new wave moving beyond the idea of large steaks and burgers. Think sardines and broccoli, clams and asparagus. The moulding together of fine cuisine and the rusticity of barbecuing is no easy feat, but when successfully achieved there is something altogether intriguing. A tinge of smoke or the odd burnt bit seems to work so well when thrown into contrast against high-end cooking.

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Three-Michelin star Arzak in Spain still opts to chargrill lamb cutlets and meaty neck cuts of hake, even though they will be plated with other ingredients cooked to scientific precision in an establishment which is more laboratory than kitchen.

At Terence Conran’s new restaurant in London, the Boundary, cooking on the rooftop is given over to a robata grill where you can enjoy scallops and pancetta, sea trout and poussin with salsa verde.

And on the other side of the city, Roka is somewhat more Eastern in its style; think of skewered scallops with wasabi and shiso, or asparagus with sweet soy and sesame. Small portions, delicately seasoned but with the delicious smoky, outdoor earthiness of the chargrill.

Traditional robata cooking involves building the charcoal in a pyramid shape and the skewers of food are then stuck in sand around the heat. Position is one form of control, but the chef will also increase the heat by throwing salt at the charcoal to knock the ash off, or will sprinkle water to lower the heat. Crude control methods perhaps, but they work well and can also be used to good effect on a conventional charcoal barbecue.

As for the charcoal, traditionally only oak charcoal is used. This is about as far from lumpwood charcoal as you can get. Knock two pieces together and they sound like iron and once lit it will last for four hours. How many of us spend hours lighting our home version only to rush the cooking at the end. There is a lot to be said for power and longevity.

Which brings me to one of the nicest delicacies to come off a robata grill this side of Tokyo. Chicken thighs. The more free-range and organic the better. There is something about thigh meat that lends itself to barbecuing; slightly gamy, definitely succulent, the bone helping to keep things moist. You can baste with a barbecue sauce if you like, but a drizzle of sake or sherry works equally well. Failing that, a good seasoning of salt can leave you with a snack better than crisps – and with all the tangy freshness needed to assist a sip of fine Riesling. Leave the beers for another day.

While there is no arguing against the joys of a good steak, barbecuing can offer so much more when its intrinsic sensitivities are harnessed in the right way. Think less big salad and more fine dining. Smoking just got better.