Agent Mule sent me an email the other day effectively shattering my hopes of being a great pit master. He glibly pointed out that no matter how much smoke plumes from my backyard, no matter how many cords of wood I stockpile and no matter how large and fatty the steer, I can never achieve the status of my colleagues from the Lone Star state. In the email, he compared a Texan’s affinity and knowledge of barbecue to French Canadians and poutine. In post-email conversation, he furthered that point by liken it to Canadians and hockey; it’s more of a religion where indoctrination starts at a very early age.
He then attached a picture to prove his point.
The art of smoking a brisket is so innate to the Lone Star State that 3 year olds are winning BBQ competitions with their dry rub blends and custom smokers. It’s like a Québécois and his poutine. It would be silly for example for an Los Angeles food geek to try and ‘curd up’ with the big boys of Canada. The moral of the story is no matter how bad one wants it, or how much smoke the neighbors see coming from your house if you’re not born in Texas your pit mastering skills will always be lacking savoir-faire. I am sorry. Blame the asian texan kid.
Begin forwarded message:
From: lreinauer <lreinauer@.com>
Date: December 13, 2008 4:00:00 PM EST
Cc: Ed Reinauer <ereinauer@.com>
Subject: briskid 3
I will admit, kid is cute.