This blog was initiated because of my daughters, who have been thinking of things for me to do for thirty years. Over three decades, my resistance has worn down to practically nothing, with the result that now, with this, we have gone public. The specific trigger was their fascination with seeing me prepare and then discuss tailgates at Michigan football games. It was sort of like listening to a golfer describe his latest round, without quite as much cringe-inducing tedium. (*There will be no discussion here of Michigan's offensive line.)
The tailgate has certain regular guests, S, A and the Z's, plus a floating group of irregulars. For November 9, S was bringing his brother in law, a native of Texas. In honor of his presence, it seemed appropriate to make something Texan. To me, that meant beef brisket.
The United States, for purposes of barbecue, is divided into three regions: the Carolinas, cooking pork shoulder for pulled pork, served with a vinegar-based sauce; the rest of the country, which, with one exception, usually focuses on spareribs and uses a molasses-based sauce, and Texas. That state defines barbecue as beef brisket, with some space reserved for sausages.* (*I realize that this is a gross generalization and that there are many subtle differences, such as Memphis versus Kansas City, dry versus wet, etc. If you want to describe all of those nuances, start your own blog.) One web site, describing the many alternatives, stated that barbecue fans, described on the site as “cue-heads”, wouldn’t want to miss a northern Alabama favorite: “White sauce, made with generous helpings of vinegar and mayonnaise.” This is an example of why Mississippi is so pleased that there is an Alabama.
There was one problem with my remarkably gracious idea of accommodating a Lone Star native: I didn't have the foggiest idea how to make a brisket, much less what to serve with it. While I could have turned to the internet or a cookbook, I had a better idea: Kevin. Kevin is a friend from Dallas who knows everything about brisket and, more important, is willing to share.
Like a lot of meats that are barbecued, meaning cooked slowly at low temperatures, brisket is inedibly tough in its natural state. It also is not very flavorful. As a result, its taste has to be enhanced with a pre-cooking rub and it then has to be cooked in such a manner as to make it tender. Fortunately, true masters, such as Kevin, have solved these issues. And he has had help.
Beginning with the rub, he readily concedes that his formula was taken from a brisket joint in Houston, the Goode Company Restaurant.
The rub includes the following:
1/4 cup salt
1 t ground bay leaves
2 1/2 T brown sugar
3/4 t ground coriander
2 T paprika
2 t dry mustard
3/4 t ground savory*
2 t garlic powder
3/4 t dried thyme
2 t onion powder
3/4 t ground pepper
1 1/2 t dried basil
3/4 ground white pepper
1/8 t ground cumin
(*I never heard of ground savory, but it falls under my rule that if the recipe calls for less than a teaspoon, don't worry about it. The rule has less authority when, as here, there are a number of such ingredients. Pick and choose.)
Keep in mind that when I asked Kevin for a summary of how he does it, I told him that I was going to cook it in a Gaggenau steam oven. The silence over the telephone was long and solemn. With a deep sigh, he agreed to send the description of the right way to do it.
Necessary materials: Cooker/smoker, charcoal, real wood for smoke, preferably pecan, 10 pound brisket, untrimmed, without too much fat (Costco has a good product, and ten pounds is about the minimum amount for Costco to sell anything.) Rub ingredients. Aluminum pans to hold the brisket and foil to cover it. Red wine, a small amount of which will be used in cooking. BBQ sauce for those heathens who think they need it. A thermometer that can monitor the cooking temperature, not the internal temp of the meat.
Give yourself plenty of time. You'll need it.
1. Day before. Inspect the meat, remove excess fat and whatever looks weird. Apply the rub, wrap in foil, and refrigerate. Put it on a towel because there will be some leakage.
2. On the day of, take the meat out of the fridge in time for it to get to room temperature. The meat will be cooked an hour per pound at 265 degrees. A charcoal fire should be started an hour before the meat goes on, to let the coals get to the proper level. DO NOT USE LIGHTER FLUID. Use an electric starter or a chimney. The meat will be cooked indirectly, not over the charcoal. Keep the exhaust vent open.
3. Add the smoke wood to the fire and let it burn down some.
4. After five hours, put the brisket fat side up in the aluminum pan, add a quarter cup of wine to the pan, and cover with foil. Drink some wine.
5. Cook the remaining time. NOTE: THE MEAT IS NEVER DIRECTLY OVER THE FIRE. FOR THE FIRST 5 HOURS, IT IS OVER THE SMOKE WOOD. FOR THE LAST 5 HOURS, IT IS IN THE ALUMINUM PAN, COVERED WITH FOIL, IN A CHARCOAL-HEATED GRILL, WITH INDIRECT HEAT.
6. Let it rest for about an hour before serving. BECAUSE BRISKET IS DENSE, IT IS CRITICALLY IMPORTANT TO SLICE IT PERPENDICULAR TO THE GRAIN. IF NOT, ALL OF THIS EFFORT IS WASTED. Youtube has a number of clips showing how to slice it. (*Even when fully cooked, it will take some effort to slice the brisket, due to its density. That does not mean that the slices themselves won’t be tender.)
Given that I have a gas grill, no access to pecan wood, and do have a Gaggenau Steam Oven, I had to figure out a different means of getting something like the same results, using what we had available. Like the Gaggenau Oven.