Bent, twisted and tasty

Former mayor of Grand Forks stirs the pot with two distinctive food-related businesses

Andrea and Neil Krog show off the awards they've won with their barbecue, Winnie the Q. — Photo courtesy Sue Finnigan, Rolltop Editorial Solutions

As an instructor in workplace safety and first aid, as councillor and later as mayor serving the City of Grand Forks, Neil Krog demonstrated a reserved and meticulous style. At times, that’s just what voters want: down-to-earth, straightforward competence. Staunching wounds, whether in bodies or in municipal budgets, is a serious matter after all.

Kitchen action 

Several years later, Neil and his wife, Andrea, are hosting morning coffee in the kitchen at their acreage home just south of the Kettle River. The discussion surrounds the couple’s two businesses, Twisted Forks Catering and Bent Spoon Barbecue. So far, it’s also confined to financial aspects: cost controls, budgeting—all pretty dry stuff.

Then, after about 10 minutes, it's as if someone entered a key word and hit enter. For suddenly it’s apparent something has changed. Neil’s arms are flying and his words can’t come out fast enough.

Did somebody mention food? Put a white glove on one hand and a wooden spoon in the other and you’d have a caricature of a conductor imploring the hefty pots suspended from an overhead beam in the Krogs’ kitchen to symphonic resonance. Is this the real deal, Neil? From Andrea’s demeanour you’d have to conclude "yes."

Now, while Andrea lets it be known she’s well used to her husband’s ebullient streak, Sue Adrain, who lives along Highway 3 near Christina Lake, has this to say: “It’s quite the show they put on.”

Creative solutions

As mothers of brides do, Adrain looked for the perfect catering adjunct for her daughter Suzy’s August wedding. The location was Owl Mountain Ranch, set in a bowl surrounded by mountains at Cascade, and the tone was informal. When Winnie the Q, the Krogs’ Texas-style barbecue, pulled into the site, every man there suddenly felt that such obviously complex metal demanded his personal inspection.

No wonder. At 1 1/2 tons, Winnie is an imposing, if porcine, figure. Many of groom Rod Vincent’s guests hailed from coastal locations in Newfoundland, and while they were familiar with outdoor cooking—lobster boils, fish fries and all that—they hadn’t seen anything quite like this. Nor could they resist asking to see in action the rotisserie, a motor-driven shaft spinning racks of meat within the smoky, cylindrical interior.

For all the excitement Winnie brought to the event, it was Andrea’s suggestion of a simple children’s buffet laid out two hours before the grownups’ scheduled eating time that Adrain truly was grateful for.

“Such a simple solution to cover the problem presented by hungry kids after a day of excitement,” said Adrain. “We appreciated it.”

Meanwhile, back at the Krog estate, Neil is explaining there actually is a formula to cost out and set pricing on what really are never-to-be-repeated occasions.

“You’re working toward 30 per cent cost of food, 30 per cent labour and other overheads and 30 per cent profit, leaving 10 per cent for contingency,” said Neil.

And how’s that working out?

“Fifty per cent food, 50 per cent labour and other overheads and 100 per cent fun,” he said.

Ingredients to success

Observations applying to Bent Spoon Barbecue, the more bombastic partner by far, also apply to Twisted Forks Catering,
The latter demands all the same interaction and negotiation with customers, even more planning and co-ordination, and the same attention to nuanced detail that is Andrea’s forte.

Yet, what lies ahead of Neil and Andrea as they ply the roads of the U.S. Pacific Northwest and Western Canada toward another barbecue cook-off is this: another adventure, more ribbons (it’s telling that they routinely fare well in the people’s choice categories) and more stories to tell. At stake? Points toward an invitation to the Jack Daniels annual world cook-off in Tennessee, recognition and prize money. Like most competitive events, this one has a serious side.

“The results can be, well, quirky,” said Neil. “Your competition can be a team of six to eight people, each with a specific contribution to the presumed masterpiece. The winner can be that guy down the line with one of those double-dome, department store barbecues and a bag of charcoal. The secret’s in the rubs and sauces.”

Neil goes on to describe what amounts to mixtures of nearly every substance known to man. Cola? Apple juice? Root beer? Well, of course. For every venture into the world of barbecue is, for Neil, a search for that moment he’ll say, like Hamlet: “Aye, there’s the rub.”