You have to give a rack of ribs the whole afternoon. That’s the deal. You can’t rush them into being tender; they either get there or they don’t, and the only thing you control is whether you’re patient.
I rubbed them early and let them sit on the counter while I tidied up. Low heat in the oven, foil on top for most of it, then the lid off at the end so the glaze could go from sticky to almost lacquered. The pan came out with caramel in the foil - the kind that’s mostly sugar, part smoke, and the rest the reason you don’t use your good sheet pan.
While the ribs were doing their slow work I roasted potatoes in the other oven. Halved and quartered into mostly-equal pieces, tossed with olive oil, salt, and the last of the herbs from the window. I crowded the tray on purpose. Some came out crackled and gold, some came out half-steamed and tender - I like the mix. My husband pulled one off the sheet before I even plated anything and burned his tongue. He does this every time.
