The Lowdown on BBQ Throwdowns: Inside Chattanooga’s Barbecue Rib Championship Cookoff

By Mason Edwards, The Chattanooga Times Free Press

Staff photo by Mason Edwards / 2025 Owl's Nest BBQ Supply Rib Championship competition champion, Jason Pendley, reacts to winning the competition.

Backyard grillers, pitmasters and other flame-chasers, drawn in by the sizzle of competition and the allure of smoky perfection, will schedule their lives around the barbecue competition season. Who could blame them?

BBQ contests are a staple of American culinary culture across the Southeast. The Kansas City Barbeque Society, the largest of its kind, sanctions more than 300 events annually across 44 states. These competitions turn grilling, a social and need-driven act, into carefully rehearsed, impromptu dances, where a poorly timed wrap or uneven glaze makes the difference between a perfect bite and a disappointing chew.

But they're also more than contests. BBQ championship grilling, whether what's at stake is fat stacks of prize money or a Walmart trophy, is a mashup of serious sport, tailgate culture and small business incubator. Many pitmasters start as hobbyists and work their way up the ranks, like reinvesting prize money into new gear or launching their own sauce and rub brands.

The American Royal World Series of Barbecue in Kansas City, often called the Super Bowl of BBQ, draws hundreds of teams and generates millions in economic impact. At the top levels, competitors gain sponsors, followings and sometimes even TV deals on shows like "BBQ Pitmasters" and "Chopped: Grill Masters."

Those big dreams often start small, at the local level, like in the filled parking lot of Steve Ray's Owl's Nest BBQ Supply in Ooltewah, where 15 teams squared off in a 90-minute, hot-and-fast rib throwdown this past March. Fierce winds scattered the billowing smoke, while AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" led into a minute-by-minute countdown. Cooking started at 10 a.m. sharp.

As the host yelled "Go," a simultaneous rush of movement drowned out the music. No competitor wasted a second in getting their meat on the grill.

"You gotta be on it," said Mark Ellis, a contractor by trade and backyard cook by passion, competing under the name Naughty Butt BBQ. "It's an hour and a half; can't be a minute late. Gotta pick your six best ones, put 'em in the box [to present to the judges] and hope you did everything right."

Ribs had been on Ellis's mind for a month, tweaking recipes and running test cooks -- all while dreaming about how to spend the $1,000 prize. He said he'd put the money toward "more cooking," because "especially in this economy, who can't use a little help?"

Each team used identical sponsor-provided charcoal to cook a single rack of baby backs -- hot, fast and under pressure. Every decision -- from when to wrap to how much sauce to glaze on -- happened quickly.

Jason Pendley, also known as "Grilling with Red," came in with a hyper-detailed timeline of his cooking steps, along with 14 different rubs -- though some were merely decoy, "fake-out" rubs that never made it into his recipe. They were just there to throw off the competition. "Somewhat of a ploy," he admitted.

Pendley added that he had the cooking schedule precisely regimented to what needed to be done every 10 minutes. "Still, I'm willing to abandon the plan if I have to," he said.

With gusts sweeping across the lot, fire control became its own kind of sport. "We're working with fire here, man," said longtime competitor Mark Franklin. "You gotta dominate the grill, treat it like firefighters treat flames."

Franklin spritzed his ribs with water, vinegar and hickory flavor to keep them moist. The final 15 minutes were crucial: unwrap, glaze and finish over an open flame. "It's that dance, getting them tender but not dry, sweet but not burnt," he said.

Billy Holland, who competes in about a dozen contests a year and said he usually lands in the top three, loves the competition camaraderie. "It's an excuse to sit in a parking lot and drink beer all night," he admitted. "Most of these guys are just backyard cooks, but some of us -- you get a trophy once, and it's addicting."

One of the five judges, Garret Tolley, a financial planner and podcaster on ChattItUp Sports, says the quality surprised him. "This is not your run-of-the-mill, next-door barbecue," he said. "This is the best in town -- real talent, real craft."

That craft is exactly what host Steve Ray hopes to foster. "It's hard to find places to compete," he said. "We do contests every few months: chili, wings and ribs. It's just fun."

For Pendley, it wasn't only about the trophy, prize money and championship ring. "Competition BBQ isn't the best barbecue, but the technique, that's what intrigued me," he said. "I'm my own biggest critic. I want to know what I can fix and then go fix it."

As judging began, pitmasters leaned back in folding chairs or paced near their coolers, arms crossed, eyes scanning the crowd.

"You want to be called last," Pendley said.

In that lineup stood a first-timer, who was there more for the scoop than the sizzle. She arrived that morning with a notebook, a borrowed grill station -- and a bag of Twizzlers. Her account picks up from when the smoke first filled the morning air.