Those who can should. Those who can’t, shouldn’t make brisket.

I’ll start by saying , I was not raised in the south. Brisket was not our family tradition. My dad made beef ribs that I would eat until I was sick. I don’t think I even had it until after my husband and I got married.

When we first moved in together, I asked my husband to make Mac and cheese then went to take a shower. After I was dressed, I came into the kitchen to find a pot with water boiling and a solid clump of noodles at the bottom. He didn’t know he had to stir it.

Over the years he not only learned how to cook, he became my own personal chef. As I’ve said before but of all the countries I’ve been to, I’ve only ever found one place that comes close to anything he can make.

On one of our trips, we ended up in Jerome, Arizona. After stopping in for numerous wine tastings (pretty sure we went to every one the town offered), we ended up at a barbecue restaurant. I honestly don’t remember much about the meal but I know we had brisket and remember it being good and my husband saying he wanted to try making it.

He started by making them in the oven. They were good but nothing compared to when he started using his Big Green Egg. This had been a birthday present I had given him. I honestly don’t know how he does it but everything that gets closed inside that porcelain grill, comes out almost magical. Brisket is no exception.

I’m not sure if I’ve met anyone that hasn’t loved my husband’s brisket or any of his cooking for that matter. Between his cooking and the places they’ve eaten all over the world, our poor children are ruined for all other cooking. They’ve had pasta in Italy, cheese nan in a hidden corner of Dubai, fish and chips in London… We’ve turned them into food snobs to stay the least.

Why am I telling you all of this?

Wednesday night, my bonus kid had a volleyball game. My husband’s sister met us at the game with her kids. By the time the game was over, the kids were all played out and my husband and I were tired. The thought of cooking dinner was less than appealing.

Since starting this way of eating, it has become painfully obvious how most restaurant meals are full of processed carbs and sugar. Finding places to eat isn’t very exciting as the options are Chipotle or barbecue. I’ll have to write about Chipotle in the future. Its honestly the only place I look forward to eating if my husband isn’t cooking.

This evening, there were no Chipotles on the drive home and the place we were wanting to eat had gone out of business. We settled for a place that has been open for years.

When we got there, the kid working the registered told us everything they were out of. The kids ordered ribs. My husband asked about the brisket and was told it was award winning.

Our food was ready pretty quick. The kids covered their ribs in barbecue sauce and said they were, “fine.” What came out for us could hardly be called food. I’m not sure if the meat had been cooked a day or two prior then reheated or if they had forgot to stop cooking it. Every bite required mouthfuls of water to wash it down. The only flavor was from the heavy pepper crust that coated every surface. I was sick before we made it home.

Needless to say, barbecue has been removed from our list of places to eat while we are out. Good thing Chipotle is still delicious.

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