El Día de los Muertos in Tucson, Arizona: The All Souls Procession and Famous Sonoran Hot Dogs

The Memory Keepers by Michelle

   The All Souls Procession, in conjunction with the All Souls Weekend, is both a celebration and a mourning of the dearly departed. Death and loss are intrinsically bound. They are fundamental elements of the human condition. All Souls provides the community a space in which to publicly mourn, to remember, to reflect upon, and to celebrate those no longer with us. As a whole, we are united through the memories of our ancestors, our loved ones, and the living.
                                                                          ~ArtFire Website
                                                                    

My niece, Sonora, shows her holiday spirit.

We carry in our hearts the true country

And that cannot be stolen

We follow in the steps of our ancestry

And that cannot be broken

~Lyrics from The Dead Heart by Midnight Oil

   During my formative years, I was raised by parents who, for a time, adhered to the strict tenets of a certain Christian faith. We weren't really churchgoing people though. I recall sitting in a pew a couple of times next to my Mom when I was very young. She tickled my arm in an effort to keep me awake during dreary Saturday morning services. Later, instead of attending church, our Dad opted to read from the Bible or articles published in The Plain Truth to us on Sabbath mornings, and that lasted for an eternity it seemed, but then finally fizzled out, much to our relief. In high school, I had a crush on a guy that attended Bible studies, so I went, too. He liked the band Styx (secretly, that is, because his parents didn't approve of rock 'n' roll, and especially a band named after the river leading to Hades). He also enjoyed playing Ultimate Frisbee. I did, too. Around that same time, my childhood best friend Sandy and I enjoyed attending Hume Lake Christian camps over the span of two summers. We had a lot of fun rowing boats on the lake and flirting with cute guys sitting around the nightly camp fires. So that was the extent of my religious education in my early years.


Juliette surveys the scene on the patio at El Charro Café located on
Court Avenue in downtown Tucson.

   However, in my twenties, under the guiding influence of my sisters, I sought to have a deeper spiritual connection with the Universe. I began by first seeking to understand the beliefs and ritual practices across the world's most influential and commonly practiced religions. I read the The Power of Myth by Joseph Campbell, followed by watching Bill Moyers interview Professor Campbell for the six part PBS series of the same title. Many books and much research followed.
   Being a descendent of immigrants hailing from countries associated with western Europe, I felt compelled to read further about pre-Christian Earth-based religious traditions, which led me to understand how America's favorite celebrations were adopted from my pagan European forefathers by way of Roman conquerors. Around 300 A.D., as the first Roman Emperor to accept Christ and convert to Christianity, mighty Constantine wielded his sword and thus began the rapid spread of Christianity.

A family visiting from Flagstaff applies makeup to each other while waiting for dinner.

   The early Roman Catholic Church kept the peace more easily by allowing the conquered peoples to retain ancient rituals, ensuring to this day the continuation of ancient holy celebrations, such as Samhain (All Souls Day, the precursor to Halloween), Santurnalia (Winter Solstice "Rebirth of the Sun" celebration, the precursor to Christmas), and Ēostre (the celebration of the dawn Goddess, the precursor to Easter), an annual event tied to the Spring Equinox and celebrated with a sunrise ritual celebrating fertility (hence the bunnies) and resurrection. Beltane, the second most important ancient festival, the first being Samhain, marked the arrival of summer. While not widely celebrated in America, in certain European countries, Beltane is a joyful time which is ritualized with bonfires and doorways decorated with flowers to protect a family from the Faery Queen.
   It is well documented that the early Catholic church initially went to great lengths to quash the pagan celebrations, but in the end, it was easier to let the conquered yet defiant peoples revel in their annual traditions. Christian acceptance of pagan rituals was tied to simply aligning practiced traditions to new values. That's just good business, folks. Priests blessed the celebrations with prayer and a sprinkling of holy water and a contentious situation became a win-win for everyone involved... the people and church alike. Besides, the food was pretty darn tasty at the festivals, and generous imbibing of delicious ale, mead and wine was pretty great, too. If you enjoy Halloween, Christmas, and Easter, then you have the pagans to thank. Raise your glass and say cheers.



   Call it what you like: Samhain, Shadowfest, Old Hallowmas, Summers End, All Saints Day, All Souls Day or Halloween, the days that bookend November 1st are a time to remember and celebrate the dead. October 31st through November 2nd are a time for reflection and to mentally, and physically, prepare for the approaching winter. Regardless of the origin, there are similar festivals at this time of year, across the globe, including North and South America, Europe, Africa and Asia.
   Living in Tucson, near the Mexican border, I have fully embraced the traditions of El Día de Los Muertos, which translates into English as The Day of the Dead. In Mexico, November 1st is dedicated to remembering Día de los Angelitos, little angels, referring to deceased infants and children. November 2nd focuses on adults that have passed, including friends, family and ancestors. Although the subject of death can be quite somber, and often takes the tone of morbidity in our American society, the Mexican cultural approach of addressing the subject of death is quite joyful and full of lively mockery.

   A favorite activity for me during this time of year is to make and decorate sugar skulls and to create a personal altar to honor my ancestors and loved ones that have died. My sister Juliette got me started on building altars when she first made one in honor of our sister, Maria. Our family was grappling with ways to deal with Maria's sudden death, and building an altar gave Juliette a physical way to honor our sister. Maria's altar resonated with our entire family and Juliette's community when it was put on public display in Bisbee for an El Día de Los Muertos event. The American Red Cross asked to include Maria's altar in a traveling exhibit, but Juliette reluctantly declined due to the fragile structure of how the altar was put together. She felt the altar would surely crumble under the wear and tear of moving from place to place and from myriads of people touching it.
   At this time of year, Juliette also likes to celebrate the season by preparing pumpkin soup and pan de muerto, bread shaped like a skull. And, Juliette is always involved in a variety of art projects inspired by skeletons involving mediums such sugar, glass and clay. My sister Linda captures her community's spirit through her lens and publishes the often emotion-invoking images for everyone to enjoy. I'm also not abashed to throwing spectacular Halloween parties. One year my friend and I chose a Day of The Dead theme, complete with a community altar. It was amazing. And, particularly moving for some of our friends who had just experienced the loss of a loved one.

   In my own life, I regret that I have been slow to recognize the importance of symbolism and ritual. Growing up, my family came together for weddings and funerals and Christmas. When my Nana passed, the big family Christmas celebrations ended, too. As I've aged, I have begun to fully understand how difficult it is to make anything last: friendships, traditions, community, and even family. Ritual brings us together. In the absence of ritual, we fade away. We can so easily be disconnected from those things that at one time were most important to us. I have felt this most of all over the last decade. Things that I thought would not likely change, did in fact change.
   To me, death is a metaphor for the acceptance of the things I cannot change, or have been unwilling to change, resigning myself to what will be. I decide what I must own and what needs to be discarded. This time of year, when it is believed that the black veil is at its thinnest between worlds, and departed souls can more easily converse with the living, I give myself over to reflection. I have cause to examine the death of all things in time, and to more fully consider what I can and cannot change. In this season, I celebrate death and rebirth, and resolve to move forward on my path with a grateful heart.

   Tucson's All Souls Procession was inspired by the El Día de Los Muertos holiday. The Procession's founder, Susan Johnson, was struggling to find a way to deal with the death of her father. As an artist, Susan was compelled to channel her feelings of grief in a creative, positive and life-affirming way. In 1990, her initial offering was a ritualistic performance presented to the public. Reaction was so positive, and other likeminded individuals wanted to participate in a similar way, that the Procession was born. The popularity of the annual event continues to grow year over year. A whopping 35,000 people participated in the event last year and 250 volunteers, known as the Militia of the Dead, kept the event under control. The parade route covers two miles and culminates with a performance at the Mercado San Agustín by fire artists Flam Chen.
   "The Procession is a sanctuary for community members from all walks of life to express their grief and loss in a celebration of creative energy and a rejoicing of living," according to the official website. Procession contributors and attendees are encouraged to complete a prayer form, found here, where a participant can write what s/he is grieving, releasing, celebrating, embracing, and/or remembering. The completed forms are collectively placed in a gigantic urn and burned at the end of the night in a dazzling pyrotechnic performance.

Juliette's grandsons, Devin and Parker, are thrilled that grandma 
"JuJu" sprung for lightsabers. Best. Gift. Ever.

The procession appeals to three generations of our family, all gathered together
 to experience a unique and special event.

My nephew, Paul and his boyzzzzzzzzzzzzz.



   Events associated with the All Souls Procession take place throughout the calendar year, from constructing masks, floats and lanterns, to sewing costumes. What I truly appreciate is that it is an all ages event, and everyone is welcome as long as they are respectful and contributing to the event in a positive way. Since this is a community funded event, the Procession continues to thrive and grow from much needed monetary donations made by local businesses and the general public.
   There are two processions in which to participate. The Procession of Little Angels and Personal Altars Vigil take place on the first Saturday of November and is currently held at Armory Park. The All Souls Procession is scheduled on the first Sunday in November. Participants begin lining up at 5:00 pm. The Procession begins at 6:00 pm. Visit the Many Mouths One Stomach website, the non-profit organization that manages all aspects of the Procession, to access a map of the route. Also, check out the on-line photo gallery, a repository of photos from numerous, talented photographers. Following is my humble offering, a collection of images that I captured during last year's Procession.

The Goddess Catrina is also referred to as the Lady of the Dead.

 

 

Skulls are displayed on altars as a symbol of death of rebirth.





Viva las belly dancers. They were my favorite performers
at last year's Procession.

Love this!.... Marc Anthony in Day of The Dead drag.

  If you are headed to downtown Tucson for the Procession, you and your crew can conveniently grab a quick dinner at a number of hot dog carts that specialize in preparing Sonoran Hot Dogs. We also like to make this Tucson specialty at home for casual gatherings.

A picture can convey a thousand words in one quick scan. This photo just shouts two: bite me.

Sonoran Hot Dogs

Tri-Tip: Santa Maria-Style Barbecue and The Firefighters of Greenville ~ Part II

My Traveling Tales by Linda

"These are the better days, baby

Oh better days, it's true

These are better days, baby

Better days are shining through"

~Bruce Springteen

   Two years ago, I visited my son in the mountain town of Greenville, California for the first of what has turned out to be my annual pre-fire season visit in April. Jordan had recently moved there and bought his first house which he spent a considerable amount of time renovating. That April morning upon rising, we loaded Jordan's dogs, Jake and Emma, in the truck and headed to take them for a long run in the sparse snow. I noticed when I hoisted myself into the front seat of Jordan's big ol' truck and he turned on the radio (Jordan is a lover of country music, by the way) that a Craig Morgan song was playing on the station that completely fit what I was experiencing on my first visit to the town. The song goes like this: “A little bit of guitar, a little bit of truck, a little bit of hound dog, and a little bit of luck..." I call this phenomenon, which I have experienced in other situations as well, the "tarot" of music. And so it went on that visit—the perfect song manifested. While last year's visit to Greenville brought an overnight snow of several inches, which allowed for lots of time to cook and for the watching of movies, this year's weekend was accompanied by brilliant sunshine and warm days. This led to Saturday morning being spent golfing with the guys which allowed me to do one of the things that I enjoy the most—take a few hundred photos of the handsome young men while they golfed, and shoot the spectacular scenery of the surrounding snowy peaks at the Mt. Huff Golf Course.

   
   Then the afternoon was barbecue time. Last year because of the snow, we had a Mexican Fiesta in the house with all of Jordan's buddies. This year with the advent of the amazing weather, it was time take advantage of the mild temps and grill tri-tip. Being from the Santa Ynez Valley, this is our family tradition... one that we never tire of. I am a woman that loves to grill, but when "Grill Master" Steve is around, he takes charge of cooking the meat. Steve has worked as a Hotshot for several years now with the Plumas group. He not only can cook, but Steve is an excellent hunter as well. He joined us halfway through the golfing because he had been up at dawn to go hunt wild turkeys.

Grill Master Steve tending the tri-tip.

   
   The menu included homemade pinquito beans, garlic bread from sourdough baguettes that I have been making from Juliette's bread recipe that she developed for her Guadalupe Baking Company, and a big green salad which are the usual sides for the Santa Maria style tri-tip barbeque. As I looked around from my seat on the front porch, my eyes took in firefighters sitting on the lawn laughing and talking, and a young mother nursing her baby boy next to me. There was a grandmother and grandfather, dogs playing fetch with children, and even an American flag waving over the proceedings. I couldn't help feeling like I was taking part in a Chevy commercial—the kind that makes you tear up in spite of yourself.

    

 Our family suffered the devastating loss of Joshua four years ago. It has been a very rough road as anyone who has lost a child knows. On that day, Jordan lost his identical twin and best friend. The healing is slow, and there is no way through the overwhelming grief but to slog on one step at a time—day after day. Through this uncharted territory, we all have managed to pull together, and be kind to one another. Easier said than done. 

   With the advent of this year's outing, I once again with concentrated effort, flung myself into Jordan's tall truck as we headed to the golf course. I unceremoniously straightened myself in my seat while Jordan smirked at my customary lack of grace—nothing new there. When the radio sprang to life with the start of the engine, a Bruce Springsteen song was playing, and his voice rang out, "These are the days, baby, oh better days, it's true, these are the days, baby, better days are shining through."  I smiled to myself at the perfection of the tarot of music for once again offering up the perfect song... for these are indeed better days for all of us, and I intend to give thanks for them and savor every single one.

Santa Maria Style Barbecue Menu

The Firefighters of Greenville, CA and Fallin' Off The Bone Baby Back Ribs

My Traveling Tales by Linda

“A little bit of guitar

A little bit of truck

A little bit of hound dog

And a little bit of luck…”

   ~Craig Morgan, song "A Little Bit of Life"

Dearest Sisters,
   I am just back from my visit to see your nephew Jordan, aka Assistant Captain of the Plumas National Forest, Engine 22 United States Forest Service. Crikey…that is one long title. His other handle is Flash. Remember a few years back when he told Maddie that his middle name was Danger, and she believed him? Well, this time he told a woman who wanted his name for an award that his name was Flash, so he has a certificate awarded to Flash Townsend hanging over his desk. Too funny! I thought you all would be anxious for the updates about our Jordy, and how I fared on my weekend trip to see him in his mountain home of Greenville. So here's the lowdown on our firefightin' mountain man.

   The drive getting to Greenville is just beautiful...every mile is scenic. In the five hours that it took me to get there I never had to take a freeway. I drove the back roads headed to Calistoga and then on to Lake County. From Clearlake, I drove to Williams and then to Butte Valley, before I finally connected with Highway 70 going north. The rest of the drive up Highway 70 winds through the Feather River Canyon. The river runs fast through the canyon with all the snow melt this Spring, and as you gain elevation the landscape gets increasingly dramatic with myriad waterfalls cascading off the giant boulders and then running down the steep sides of the rocky hills, and finally pouring into the rapids on the river. Long tunnels were blasted through solid rock to allow not only for auto travel, but the trains that run alongside Highway 70 as well. 

Two views of the Feather River.

   The area is also accented with photogenic suspension and trestle bridges. I longed to stop and take photo after photo, but the road is narrow, and unfortunately doesn't provide for many safe places to pull over and shoot your heart out. Greenville is a historic and quaint town of 2,000 residents that is perched at about 4,000 feet in elevation. It is situated in the stunning Plumas County in a valley surrounded by snow covered mountains for most of the year. Lakes, conifers and logging roads abound. Jordan, as you both know, fell in love with the area when he became a Plumas Hotshot over ten years ago now. I was excited to see the house that he purchased and has spent the last year renovating.
   I found Jordan's house easy enough, it is on Main Street after all, but Señor Captain was nowhere to be found. However, his dogs, Emma and Jake were home, and I thought that they might bust through the large living room window trying to get at me. Having had to pee for several hours, I really would have liked to go into the house, but with the ferocious fangs flying inside I had no choice but to retreat to my car and watch little snow flurries start to come down. So much for being a little early. Jordan surprised me by walking up on foot about 30 minutes later, just when I was sure that I was starting to reabsorb my "water".

      Little did I know that he had been just a few steps down the street hanging at the local saloon called The Way Station. So much for neither of us having cell phones. Jordan introduced me to Emma and Jake. Emma is a beautiful lab and pit bull mixed breed that Jordan rescued from the Chico Humane Society about 3 years ago. She is a sweetie. Jake is Jordan's newest canine addition to the family. He is a Catahoula hound, and he is an adorable little terror. Still in the puppy phase, he has proved hard to house break, and he still likes to chew on everything.
   Jordan informed me that the firefighters had all been "furloughed" that day due to the budget crisis in Washington. His boss had told him to go home at noon until further notice. (The federal funding came through over the weekend, as we all know by now, a government shutdown was narrowly avoided, and he was back to work on Monday), but taking this turn of events in stride, Jordan had headed to the local saloon with friends to have some drinks, await the decision of the fates and the arrival of his mother.

   After showing me around his home sweet home, Jordan suggested that we go have cocktails at the bar just down the street (well I had a cocktail...he had a "man-drink") where he could introduce me to his friends. I think I was the first person in a very long while (perhaps ever), to order a Cosmo in The Way Station. My ordering of this cocktail caused Jordan no end of amusement. My furloughed firefighter had been sipping whiskey since the early hours of the afternoon, but as it turns out, Mary, the bartender makes a mean Cosmo, and all was well in my world.
   One of the great things about a very small town is that it is possible to walk everywhere. After my two Cosmo limit, we walked through the softly falling snow to have a delicious prime rib dinner at the Main Street Dinner House, where one of Jordan's friends is a chef. One of the nice things about small towns is that the tab for two delicious prime rib dinners including soup, salad, baked potato and a very modest corkage fee came to just $52... nice! Sharing a cozy dinner with my handsome son while gazing at snowflakes dancing in the air through the picture window behind him... priceless.

Emma and Jake are out in front of the truck for their morning constitutional.

   The next morning Jordan showed me how he runs his dogs... Greenville-style. While I, with some difficulty, hoisted myself into Jordan's very tall truck, he loaded Jake and Emma into the back seat. Then with Craig Morgan playing on the radio we took off on Highway 89 for a local logging road. At the base of Old Haun Road, Jordan let the dogs out to run free alongside the truck. They knew the drill, because they took off at breakneck speed up the road, stopping only to take a roll in the snow, drink from pools along the roadside or to cavort among the trees. It is certainly a dog's life in Greenville.


Grillmaster Steve working his magic on Tri Tip.

   On Saturday afternoon, Jordan and I hosted a group of his friends and work buddies over for a grilled tri-tip and sturgeon dinner. I had packed an ice chest full of goodies for Jordan from Whole Foods. I brought lots of meat for his freezer, and my co-worker William had given me a beautiful piece of sturgeon that he had caught earlier in the week in the Sacramento Delta which I had frozen for the occasion. Jordan assured me that my grilling skills (which I consider to be more than adequate, as you know) would not be needed because his friend Steve, aka Grillmaster, was coming over to take care of the playing-with-fire duties. Jordan built a huge blaze in his fireplace, again…Greenville-style, using a drip can with a mixture of diesel and gasoline. No kindling needed in this neck of the woods.

   When the fire was nice and hot, I placed foil-wrapped potatoes and loaves of garlic bread along the perimeter of the fire, so they could slowly cook while I put out appetizers and made a big batch of margaritas in a plastic bucket that had once contained cookies from the Solvang Bakery. Note to self...Jordan could use a pitcher. The herbed chèvre and flat breads were a big hit with his friends, but the olive tapenade that I brought was pronounced "too salty", and was barely touched. Once I had chili heating in the crock pot, all I had left to do was sip margaritas, and photograph Jordan and friends to my heart's content. Grillmaster Steve was indeed very adept, and the tri tip and sturgeon were cooked to perfection. What a feast we had!

   Sunday arrived, and Jordan and I were invited to watch the end of the Masters Golf Tournament at his friends' cabin at Indian Falls. This sounded like a great idea to me, because Nolan, Kevin and Grillmaster Steve were promising baby back ribs. Not a huge fan of golf, the guys helped the time fly by with their interesting perspective and commentary. They were all rooting for Tiger Woods, because he was the only American player. I have still not forgiven Tiger just yet, so I rooted for the Irish guy. In the end the guy from South Africa won. Kevin and Steve got my seal of approval for how to prepare and grill ribs. They began with a dry rub, braised the ribs in the oven on a low temp for a couple of hours, and then finished them on the grill with barbeque sauce. The guys ended the day by tossing a football around.

Tuck in to a hearty breakfast at Anna's Cafe.

   Monday morning came too soon, and it was time for me to head back to Guerneville and for Jordan to return to work. We took the dogs for a last “run”, before I kissed Jordan goodbye. I stopped at Anna’s Café for a hearty hot breakfast on my way out of town. Michelle, I am hoping that you and Maddie can come out for a trip to the mountains this summer. Of course it would be wonderful if we could tear Hoolietta away from the Guadalupe Baking Company for a few days, but I won’t hold my breath. Jordan sends his love to you both, as do I.
   Ever your Linda Lou

Braised Then Grilled Baby Back Ribs

   Baby back ribs are my favorite ribs for grilling. Michelle and I experimented with St. Louis Ribs when she was here, and we didn't like them nearly as much. Baby backs are more money, but if you are going to spend an entire afternoon braising and then grilling, you may as well spend a little extra and have rib perfection.
   I always use purchased BBQ Sauce because I can get great pre-made ones at Whole Foods. I really like Daddy Sam's or Everett and Jones, which is a local product for me. Feel free to make your own best sauce, or jazz up an average store-bought sauce, as I saw Grillmaster Steve do in Greenville, with hot sauce, honey, lime and herbs.
   This technique allows for great results without the use of a smoker, and the finished product are ribs that are literally "fallin' off the bone", something which I have found many folks claim about their ribs, but do not actually achieve (you know who you are).

Ingredients:
2 racks or more of pork baby back ribs, figure 4 ribs per person

Fuego Rub from Chevys and RioBravo FreshMex Cookbook (10 Speed Press, 2000):
2 Tbsps paprika (sweet or smoked or half of each)
1 tsp cayenne
1 Tbsp sea salt
1 tsp ground white pepper
1 Tbsp ground black pepper
1 Tbsp granulated garlic
1 Tbsp chile powder
1 Tbsp dried oregano

Barbecue Sauce:
Store-bought (see intro above for recommendations), or this family recipe from chef extraordinaire Rick Bayless is excellent and quite easy. Rick's folks owned a barbecue joint called the Hickory House in Oklahoma City that had a good run for nearly 40 years before closing its doors in 1986 under new management. The history of the restaurant and recipes were featured in Saveur magazine.

2 cups ketchup
3/4 cup water
2/3 cup dark brown sugar
4 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1/4 cup worcestershire sauce
2-3 Tbsps cider vinegar
1-2 tsps of the spice rub (above)
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
sea salt to taste

Procedure:

1. To make the spice mix: Combine first 8 ingredients together in a small bowl, mixing well. Makes about 1/2 cup. Leftover spice can be kept in a tightly sealed jar for a couple months.

2. To make the barbecue sauce: Combine all the ingredients in a saucepan and simmer over medium-low to low heat, as required to maintain a gentle simmer for 30 minutes. Cool, then store in a tightly sealed jar in the refrigerator for up to one month. Makes about 3 cups.

3. To prep the ribs: Start with one large half sheet pan. Tear off two long pieces of foil and lay them on top of the sheet pan so that they overlap by several inches on the sides, and are long enough to wrap the ends back around to the top. Lay two racks of baby back ribs on the sheet with the meaty side up.
4. Sprinkle dry rub on each rack and rub well being careful not to tear the foil. Then seal up the foil around the racks in a loose envelope that is completely sealed (this allows the ribs to braise in the seasoned juice). Bake in a 280 degree oven for about 2.5 hours. No need to turn or do anything else. Easy!

5. Finishing the ribs on the grill: Steve's recommendation goes for me as well, when it comes to finally putting the ribs on the grill. The ribs should be very tender at the end of the cooking time in the oven. You will need to use care in transferring the ribs to the grill, so that the racks stay intact and do not pull apart. Do not uncover the ribs until they are ready to go on the grill (unless you are cooling and refrigerating overnight - see note below). I like to use my charcoal grill for this, because it adds flavor.
   When you are ready, pour the accumulated fat and juices off the sheet pan. I lightly brush the backside of the racks with sauce, and then place that side down on a hot grill first, but not directly over the fire. Indirect heat is best.Total cooking time will be roughly 10 minutes, just enough to apply two to three layers of sauce to each side, and to brown up the ribs and thicken the sauce. Remove from the grill when satisfied with the results.
   The ribs are delicious served with loaded baked potatoes or Our Family's Potato Salad, or Grandma's Best Macaroni Salad or Coleslaw - so many options. Ranch beans or baked beans and garlic bread are nice additions to the plate. To wash it all down, the standards work here: a hearty red wine, beer or our favorite margaritas.

P.S. The ribs can be braised the day before, cooled and stored in the refrigerator overnight. The next day, let the ribs sit out at room temperature for about 60 minutes until ready to throw on the grill.