Today I’m smoking a brisket. I tend to wax philosophical about real BBQ.
Dean, you tend to wax philosophical about everything.
Ok, that’s true, but today it’s brisket and there are some pretty good reasons why, so I’m just going to talk about BBQ and I’ll leave it to you to find the analogies.
Among pit masters—which I am not, by the way, I am but an enthusiastic novice—but among real pit masters brisket is widely acknowledged as the Holy Grail of BBQ. Not because it is such a fine cut of meat but for exactly the opposite reason. Brisket is a challenge. It’s not a rare or desirable cut. In fact it’s about the same price as cheap hamburger. But unlike hamburger it’s way too thin on one end and too thick on the other to ever cook evenly. It's incredibly tough and chewy, which means the only thing that has a prayer of transforming it is 12 or more hours of slow heat and smoke, during which time many, many things can go wrong. Today’s brisket went on the smoker at 5:00 this morning.
So why even mess with it if it’s going to be that much trouble? Because cooking brisket is a story of redemption and transformation, and it’s not unlike life itself.
Great steaks cook in minutes, are filled with water, and come from muscles that hardly ever get used. Beautiful young people are steaks—sexy, exciting, fun. But brisket is a strong muscle with a lot of miles on it, and after hours of unrelenting heat all the water of its youth is gone. When that happens the very fibers are so depleted that it literally stops cooking. It’s a very confusing time. We call it the “stall.” It’s the mid-life crisis of all BBQ. It’s when BBQ hits the stall that a lot of folks get discouraged and give up. And why not? You’ve invested a lot of time into this process and the result is cheap, dry, overcooked, and all the evidence seems to indicate there’s no hope.
So this is when the great masters tell you, don’t give up. Because with enough time, and patience, and care, something miraculous happens. No, the water is never coming back. Let it go. Too many older cuts of meat are trying to be steaks. But in place of where the water used to be, the very parts of the meat that first made it inedible begin to melt and when that happens they re-infuse the meat with an otherworldly kind of juice. It ain’t water. It’s not so simply as water. It’s literally liquid meat. It’s all the grit and grizzle and struggle of life that finally lets go and turns into jelly.
And when that happens, if we’re willing to push through the discouragement and loss, and wipe the smoke from our eyes, and keep the faith, and persevere, and embrace the heat, and the face the truth that youth are beauty are not only fleeting but also just the shallows of what life can really be, then with time and patience and care and endurance, the most awkward, ordinary and unremarkable cut of meat can be turned into a masterpiece.
And that’s the truth about brisket. When it’s done right, it has no equal. Every day at world famous Franklin BBQ in Austen Texas folks wait in line for six hours or more just to taste the indescribable essence of something that started its life cheap, common, on the bench, awkward, mishapen, at the bottom of the pile, last in line, and least likely to succeed.
I’m just learning how to do this, both in my smoker and in me. I don’t know how today’s brisket is going to turn out but as for me? There’s still hope. So my encouragement to you today? Be brisket. I know things are tough. Hang in there. Keep faith in yourself. Don’t resist the tough times. Let them melt you, transform you. A life well lived through time and fire has no equal. So
embrace the heat and the smoke, don’t lose heart, and get back out there and build yourself a beautiful life
