Beer and Barbecue

(3) Saturday morning, I woke with the desire to BBQ. So I went to HEB and bought a brisket. I brought it home, put the rub on it, and put it in the fridge.

Sunday morning, at 9 am, I lit a fire in my smoker. Then I spent the next twelve hours watching smoke waft across the backyard.

There is something primordial, and oddly Zen-like, about smoking food. I wanted to hop around like Tim Allen, grunting and scratching as the meat cooked. And then, as I watched the smoke curl around the carious items in the backyard, I lost myself in a trance-like meditation of cause and effect.

At 1 pm, I opened my first beer. Well, technically the second. I used one in the mop sauce. I spent the afternoon in a haze of smoke and beer.

Which explains Monday. I did absolutely nothing yesterday. Well, I read. But that's about it.

The brisket was good, though.