They call him "The Master." Gary Wiviott, a black-clad, mild-mannered Northwest Side financial leasing agent, morphs into the Maven of Barbecue at a moment's notice.

In the past seven or eight years, the 51-year-old Sauganash resident estimates, he's cooked over 2 tons of barbecue.

Not commercially -- he's not a paid chef -- and not competitively -- he doesn't go in for barbecue contests: Just for the love of it.

"I'm a barbecue slut," Wiviott says.

He's been enticed to cook for big dinner parties at short notice. "Uncle Gary -- your brisket is so good. Would you mind cooking for my mom's party?"

"How many people?"

"Oh, 40."

"Now it's like delivery service," he says. He's smoked heirloom turkeys for Slow Food Chicago, and cooked for the homeless at the Salvation Army. He smokes four or five corned-beef briskets for a crowd every St. Patrick's Day.

Journalists from John Kass to ... well ... me phone him to ask for barbecue lessons. Neighbors sniff the air hopefully whenever they pass his place. But it wasn't always so. He's been interested in cooking -- and eating -- since his youth in Fox Point, Wis. "My mom always let us cook. She only insisted that we clean up as we went along," he says. "My mom was a good cook. She won a chili contest one time. My dad cooked. He had his special stuffing for the Thanksgiving turkey."

Since he came to Chicago two decades ago, he's always been one to seek out good restaurants and food shops, participating in several online food groups where people trade hot tips on where to find great fare. (He's recently started his own such forum, http://www.lthforum.com.)

When the barbecue bug bit, "My wife was looking to buy me a present and my friend Andy Bloom suggested a smoker," Wiviott recalls. "They went in on it together. "Ellen thought I'd smoke the occasional fish. She had visions of a demure little salmon coming off it. She didn't know that I would go completely insane."

"I had no idea what I was starting," Ellen Wiviott says.

"I became completely obsessed," Gary Wiviott recalls.

Perhaps they might have guessed how things would turn out. Wivott's had similar obsessions with other kinds of cooking. "Thai, Japanese -- Ellen and I ate miso soup every day for a year," he says. "I baked bread for about two years.

"If I do something, I over do it." Wiviott quotes a favorite catchphrase: "Nothing says excess like excess."

To learn about his new toy, Wiviott joined an online barbecue discussion group called "The Porch" at http://www.thesmokering.com. "I learned a lot on there. That was like my classroom."

He also practiced endlessly. "I wasn't very good at it at first," he says. "I would cook chicken like ten times in two weeks."

"We fed the whole neighborhood for nights on end," says Ellen Wiviott. "I've never had smoked fish yet."

Eventually, he became so good at it that he can hardly bear to eat inferior barbecue. "I can't go to a barbecue place and eat ribs because I've developed my palate," he says, and he tastes all of the flaws in the product. He and other obsessive friends regularly go on barbecue hunts around the city to evaluate what local barbecue joints are doing. Less than a handful meet their exacting standards, and none of those are on the North Side.

So Wiviott is cooking his own, sharing with his friends (and stray journos) and teaching eager barbecue supplicants. He shared a few of his secrets with us. Beware, however, that barbecue, like pizza, is a matter of religion. Region plays a role. Down in Texas, they cook beef brisket. In western Kentucky, mutton becomes the preferred meat. Here in the Midwest, we like our baby back pork ribs.

But all of these are what enthusiasts term "true barbecue" -- slowly cooked over hot coals, allowing the smoke to lend flavor to the meat. This is as opposed to "grilling," the quick cooking you do when you throw a steak on the hibachi. (And we're not even going to mention that sloppy concoction of ground beef and red sauce that some people term "barbecue.")

Barbecue-heads of Wiviott's persuasion like their barbecue to be toothsome, with some chew to it. The fall-off-the-bone, eat-with-a-fork style favored by patrons of such establishments as Twin Anchors, 1655 N. Sedgewick St., Chicago, he dismisses derisively as "meat Jell-O." So read no further if that's your preferred type, because he won't tell you how to make that.

Barbecue, Wiviott says, is about " the interaction of the smoke and the wood.

"If you can control the fire, that produces a good flavor.

"If you can see a lot of smoke billowing, there's something wrong. You should have a clean-burning fire. Lots of smoke means the fire is smoldering. That can create creosote, which gives the food a bitter flavor."

For clean smoke, don't wet the wood, Wiviott advises and use chunks, not chips. For ribs, Wiviott likes four parts hickory to one part oak. "Don't use too much wood," he cautions. He prefers hardwood charcoal to the typical briquettes, which contain additives and don't burn as long or as cleanly. (One local supplier is Berger Brothers Charcoal, 1186 N. Cherry Ave., Chicago, 312/642-4238).

Wiviott recommends that barbecue beginners start with chicken, which is forgiving of uneven heat. After mastering a couple of different styles of chicken, baby back ribs are next -- they're fatty and tend not to dry out. Next try the meatier spare ribs, and then pork shoulder for pulled pork. Beef brisket is one of the most difficult meats to smoke correctly, Wiviott says.

He does most of his barbecuing on a pair of Weber Smokey Mountains, bullet-shaped charcoal smokers made by the Palatine-based Weber-Stephens Co., best known for their kettle grills.

But Wiviott also uses other cookers. "I built a cinder-block pit in the style of the Carolina's at my cousin's house -- that's for whole pigs." He also owns a New Braunfels Texas-style offset smoker.

The bullet smokers are versatile, however, because they can also be used to grill over direct heat. "A lot of the time, I'll take out the water pan and cook directly on the grill."

Many people think the point of a smoker's water pan is to add moisture to the smoking food. Not so, says Wiviott. "Water acts as a governor and keeps the temperature below 275 degrees."

It also creates thermal mass in the smoker. A technique he uses -- but cautions isn't for beginners -- is to fill the water pan with sand, which creates the thermal mass but doesn't have regulate the temperature. Wiviott can gauge temperature in his smokers by holding his hand over the vents. "People get too dependent on thermometers.

"I don't fuss too much."

Wiviott shares a few of his recipes, below. Many of them make use of powdered dried chilies. "I use ancho, pasilla and guajillo, pequin, and/or whatever I have on hand," he says. "I toast the whole peppers, in a dry pan, snip off the stems, de-seed and then grind to powder in a coffee grinder."

The dried chilies are available in the Mexican produce or spice sections of many supermarkets, as well as at Latin markets.

South Carolina-style mustard barbecue sauce

Use this zesty sauce as a baste for barbecue meat or as a condiment.

2/3 cup prepared yellow mustard
1/4 cup white sugar
1/4 cup light brown sugar
1 cup cider vinegar
1 tablespoon powdered ancho chilies
1 tablespoon powdered chipotle chilies
1 tablespoon powdered guajillo chilies
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon white pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground red pepper (for more heat, add crushed red pepper and, if you want it even hotter, use freshly ground piquins)
4 drops Louisiana-style hot sauce (or more to taste)
1/2 teaspoon soy sauce
2 tablespoons butter

Combine all ingredients except the soy sauce and butter in a saucepan and simmer for 10 minutes.
Remove from the heat. Stir in the soy sauce and butter. Makes about 2 cups.

Red barbecue sauce

A traditional, Midwestern style of sauce.

32 ounce bottle cheap ketchup
2/3 cup apple cider vinegar
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 pound (1 stick) butter
1/2 cup lemon juice
1/2 cup lime juice
2 teaspoons black pepper
2 tablespoons crushed red pepper flakes
2 tablespoons chipotle hot sauce (preferably Bufalo brand)
2 tablespoons Louisiana-style hot sauce
2 tablespoons freshly toasted and ground ancho, chipotle and/or guajillo chilies

Combine all ingredients in a saucepan. Gently simmer for 20-minutes. This keeps for weeks in the refrigerator. Makes 5 to 6 cups.

Salmon with citrus butter

Just to show that he does smoke fish, Wiviott provides this recipe. The same ingredients will work whether you smoke the fish or simply grill it quickly. "I typically use applewood for smoke, but any fruitwood would be nice," Wiviott notes. "I often make this recipe with just a light kosher salt brine," instead of the citrus marinade, he says. Combine 1/2 cup kosher salt and 1/3 cup brown sugar with 1 gallon of water and soak the fish for 2 to 3 hours. "Though it is excellent with the recommended marinade."

Citrus butter:
2 teaspoons grated orange zest
2 teaspoons grated lime zest
2 teaspoons grated lemon zest
3/8 cup orange juice
2 teaspoons lemon juice
2 teaspoons lime juice
3/8 cup minced parsley
1/2 pound (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground pepper

Salmon marinade:
1/4 cup canola oil
3/8 cup freshly squeezed orange juice
1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/8 cup freshly squeezed lime juice

1 31/2- to 4-pound salmon fillet

Prepare the citrus butter: Mix all the ingredients in a small bowl. Transfer to a sheet of parchment or waxed paper and shape butter mixture into two 6-inch logs. Wrap and freeze until the butter is firm, about 30 minutes. (Can be frozen up to 2 months.) Marinate the salmon: Combine all ingredients in heavy-duty zipper type plastic bag, add the salmon, and refrigerate for up to two hours. Cook the salmon: Prepare a fire in a smoker or barbecue grill. Smoke or grill the salmon, basting with half the citrus butter. To serve: Cut the salmon into serving portions. Place a 1-inch piece of citrus butter on each piece of fish and serve. 6 servings.

Red rice

Wiviott often serves this side dish with barbecue. "I occasionally add toasted ground cumin seed with the ground peppers," he notes, and sometimes he adds some chopped green onion with the other vegetables.

About 2 tablespoons olive oil
6 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 onion, minced
3 fresh jalapenos, minced
2 cups long-grain rice
Salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons mixed Mexican chilies, powdered
4 cups water
Chopped cilantro and green onion for garnish

In a large saucepan over medium-high heat, heat the olive oil and saute the garlic, onion and jalapeno until fragrant. Add the rice, mix to coat all grains with olive oil.
Add salt and pepper to taste and the ground chilies; stir to incorporate.
Add the water and simmer, covered, for 15-minutes.
Let sit an additional 10-minutes. Serve with a topping of cilantro and chopped green onion. 6 to 8 servings.

Garlic barbecue slaw

2 small heads green cabbage, shredded
3 large carrots, grated
1/2 small head red cabbage, shredded
1 bunch green onions, finely diced
1 quart mayonnaise
11/4 cups white sugar
1/4 cup yellow mustard
2/3 cup apple cider vinegar
21/4 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
3 cloves garlic, minced (or to taste)
1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

Toss the vegetables in a large bowl. In another bowl, whisk together all the remaining ingredients.
Slowly add the dressing to the slaw and stir. Cover and let stand in refrigerator for at least 15 minutes, until thoroughly chilled. 8 to 10 servings.