Stop settling for flabby prime rib: this holiday roast finally delivers steakhouse crust

Here’s a painful truth no one wants to hear a few days before the holidays: Most prime rib is bad. It’s really bad. I know, gasp, grab your pearls. But for a cut so mythologized for its luxurious marbling and “you only bring it out for special occasions” price, the average holiday prime rib is a soft, pink, shaky disappointment. That shiny roast coming out of the oven? This looks promising. But when sliced, you get pink, edge-to-edge mush, zero textural contrast, and a crust that disappears the moment a knife touches it.

The flavor is good (beef this rich is hard to completely ruin), but it could be. so much better. This is why I’ll die on the hill saying smoking is the best way to cook prime rib. Low, slow heat and wood smoke give you everything the standard oven roast can’t: deeply browned edges, layers of smoky flavor, caramelization, enhanced meatiness, and most importantly, structure. Smoking brings that ribeye-on-the-grill character into the roast, creating a slice that you can lift with a fork without fear of it blowing away like a deflated water balloon.

And before you protest that firing up the grill on a cold (maybe even snowy) December day feels like punishment, hear me out. If you’re like me, going out to “check the grill” is the perfect moment of solitude during a holiday get-together. Plus, smoking prime rib isn’t an all-day brisket project. With the charcoal snake setup I describe later, you don’t need to hover over the grill. It does its job while you’re inside, pretending you haven’t heard anyone talking about politics.

Choosing and preparing the roast

For the definitive guide to selecting and preparing prime rib roast, I’ll tell you our former Culinary Director Kenji’s rules for the perfect prime rib. But here’s the kicker: To start, you need to salt your prime rib for at least 24 hours, ideally 48 hours, before cooking. Large cuts need time for the salt to fully penetrate. At first, the salt draws out some moisture, dissolves in it, then slowly returns to it, loosening the protein structure (hello, myosin) and improving the seasoning without leaving a puddle of briny runoff.

Buy your roast on the bone. This is the only way forward. Not because the bones magically infuse flavor into the meat (they don’t), but because they act as a natural insulator. As Kenji points out in his prime rib roast recipe, meat near the bone cooks more slowly, meaning more of your roast stays tender and perfectly cooked instead of drifting too far toward well-done. It also makes for a beautiful and impressive presentation. To make cutting easier, you can remove the bones from raw beef and tie them up if desired. (Ask your butcher to do this for you.) A final benefit is that gnawing on roasted ribs is one of life’s quiet joys.

And finally, look for the intense marbling, the delicate white cobwebs of intramuscular fat. More marbling equals richer flavor and better texture. And unless your guests are the competitive eating type, you probably don’t need the classic pounds per person calculation. Three-quarters of a pound per person (about one bone for every three eaters) is enough.

The Foolproof Smoking Setup: The Charcoal Snake

You don’t need a dedicated smoker to make a prime rib that tastes like you borrowed your neighbor’s $1,500 pellet appliance. A standard kettle grill is more than adequate, all thanks to the charcoal snake setup. This method has been popular with grilling enthusiasts for years, but I first learned it from barbecue expert Morgan Bolling when I worked alongside him at America’s Test Kitchen years ago. Since then, it’s been my favorite smoking setup for most of my “big cut + long smoking time + no babysitting” cooking needs.

The snake, or “C” configuration, is created by constructing a semi-circle of overlapping briquettes around the edge of the grill. For this prime rib, the setup is two rows at the bottom, one at the top, with pieces of wood folded at intervals along its length. Light one end and the briquettes slowly ignite like a fuse. You get hours of steady heat without giving it a charcoal every 45 minutes like you would with most smokers.

The Snake is a bit hotter and has wider temperature swings (around 225°F to 325°F) than more traditional smokers. But these fluctuations do not harm the final result. I’ve compared large snake-smoked cuts with the same cuts cooked at lower, more controlled temperatures, and the differences are minor, especially for a well-marbled roast designed to stay juicy. The reward is that you get a consistent, mostly hands-off cook.

To further stabilize the heat, I place a pan of water in the middle of the grill, under where the roast is resting. It acts as a thermal buffer, retains drops and prevents breakouts.

If the snake seems to be stacking and organizing too much, you can definitely fall back on Joshua Bousel’s more actively tended kettle grill method. But if you want to walk away and trust the setup, the snake is as close to “set it and forget it” as smoking in the open.

The arguments in favor of overcooking your meat

This might get me booed on most steakhouse patios, but I’m a firm believer that prime rib tastes better when you cook it a little more than you think. Not more “charred into oblivion,” but certainly more than the rare to barely medium-rare dogma we were taught to obey.

Prime rib is made up of fat. Thick, beautiful marbling runs throughout the roast, and that fat needs a little extra heat to soften, melt, and do its job of imparting flavor and juiciness to your mouth. Lean cuts like tenderloin can dry out above 120°F, but prime rib has a cushion of fat that can withstand higher temperatures without losing its tenderness.

And while we often dread the “gray band” of beef, it’s doing you a favor here. A touch of this gradient, from the lightly gold edge to the pink center, gives each slice definition and contrast. Instead of a uniform piece of pink Jell-O meat, you get something with structure, chew, and way more character.

So in this recipe, I bring the roast to 120-125°F in the center, then let it rise to 130-135°F while it rests. Yes, this is in “average” territory. Yes, some chefs would disagree. But the result is a pink, juicy center surrounded by an exterior that’s just gently cooked enough to give each bite nuance, texture, and better overall flavor.

Portion

Once rested, smoked prime rib is deeply seasoned, rich with smoky complexity, and flavorful enough to serve without frills. But a classic sinus-clearing horseradish sauce cuts the richness in just the right way, so I always make a bowl. When you slice the roast, you’ll see the best of all worlds: a smoky crust, a juicy pink center, and some gradients in between that make every bite interesting.

This is a prime rib with personality. Not just a holiday centerpiece, but a piece worth taking out in the cold.