The directions for cooking barbecue are designed primarily for Texans who, through no fault of their own, are forced to live outside the state. If you have ever ordered barbecue in such outrageous places as New York or Los Angeles, you will understand from experience the murderous rage that lives in us all. You may even break down and cry in a public place. There is nothing like Texas barbecue. It is one of those things that simply doesn't export. I spent a lot of time talking to the pros, eating barbecue, and trying to devise some way that barbecue could be cooked at home. It takes some doing. Frankly, if I lived within fifty miles of a decent barbecue place, I'd never be so presumptuous as to try and compete with a professional. But I don't live near a barbecue place, and from time to time I am overwhelmed with a primordial urge for barbecue. So I give myself a day and make the real thing. But before I tell you how to do it, I want to speak to those readers who may have just moved to Texas. You might know how to define a fine French restaurant, but can you tell a good barbecue joint? 1. They serve only barbecue. You go there at noon. 2. A stack of wood is outside, and smoke is curling up from a large smokestack somewhere. 3. When you walk in the door, you may see a sign that says Snickers in the Cooler. 4. More than likely there will be picnic tables with loaves of bread still in the plastic wrappers, gallon jars of jalapenos, and sliced onions. Maybe a pot of pinto beans. 5. Look carefully at the other diners. They should be just-folks. They should be hunched over squares of butcher paper, chewing thoughtfully. Ideally, there will be no conversation other than murmurs of approval and considered belches. 6. There are toothpicks beside the cash register. You buy the meat by the pound. The carver cuts it to order. 7. You are probably in a small town west of a line running from Columbus and northward to Dallas-Fort Worth. 8. You are eating Central Texas Barbecue-you lucky son-of-a-gun. But can you cook it at home? With some effort, yes. In the first place, don't confuse barbecuing with grilling. Grilling over charcoal will produce a marvelous steak or lamb chop or even chicken, but that is not barbecue. Barbecue is smoke, and not too much heat, and plenty of time. You can barbecue less-than-choice cuts. You cannot grill them. It takes low heat to tenderize a brisket. Remember that old physics rule. Water boils at 212F. Boil the water out of a tough piece of meat and what have you got? New sandals. Commercial barbecue pits in Texas are usually brick, 10 to 20 feet long, about waist high, and with a sheet-metal lid so heavy it is suspended on pulleys. They build a fire in one end, put the meat at the other end, draw the smoke up over it, swab the meat and turn it for up to 24 hours. That's the process you are trying to imitate. Wes Gulley does a good job of home barbecuing using his modified oil-drum barbecue pit. Wes is from Uvalde and knows the real thing. He had a rectangular sheet-metal baffle cut that just fits inside the oil drum between the grill and the firebox. Wes creased the baffle like a rooftop so that juices from the meat would run down the sides and back into the fire. He rigged up some sort of little legs that keep the baffle just about halfway between the fire and the meat. He didn't want the baffle to be lying on the fire-it would put it out. Nor did he want it so close to the meat that it would send up too much radiant heat. He was trying to prevent the meat juices from dripping into the fire and flaming up. It works. When the juices and grease hit the baffle, they simply smoke. Just what you want. He builds a parsimonious little fire in one end of the drum, puts the meat at the other end, closes the lid, and barbecues away. Wes seasons the meat dry, then mops the meat with a sauce (recipe follows) about every half hour; he cooks his barbecue at least 4 hours no matter what the meat (see recipe for Wesley's Ribs). When he mops the meat, he dabs it on, since dragging the mop across the meat would knock off the dry seasonings. I made a pretty fair imitation of Wes's baffle by sacrificing an old cookie sheet to the cause. I just propped the sheet up on bricks inside our oil-drum cooker. It was fairly successful although the bricks took up a lot of room in the firebox. We have had good luck barbecuing in a metal cooker called Smoke 'n Pit. This cooker is designed with a bottom pan filled with charcoal and hickory chips, then a pan of water sitting on top of that, then the grill where you put the meat, and finally a dome lid. You gain a lot of control with this type of barbecue. It never seems to get too hot, In truth, it produces meats that might better be described as smoked. As the meat cooks, juices drip down into the water, which boils and sends steam up to help the cooking procedure. Although you have to check the draft from time to time and may have to add more fuel or water, you can produce a good barbecue without much risk in this sort of cooker. I also have used this water pan cooker for game with very good results. Smoked haunch of venison is wonderful. Smoked game birds work equally well. One of the greatest things about this piece of equipment is that the cooking time is printed right on the lid. You don't have to think much, just read. When I use this cooker, I usually just use a dry rub on the meat, Don't baste it because every time you open the lid, heat escapes and slows down the already slow process. If all of these methods seem too complicated, you can try barbecuing in an open grill by building a modest charcoal fire at least 8 inches below the grill and placing a log at one end of the charcoal for smoke. As the fat drips out of the meat it will fall on the charcoal, creating more smoke. But that old demon, flame, will be a problem. Keep water nearby and quench any flame up immediately. The water will create steam, which will help your barbecue along. You should cover the entire top surface of the grill with meat. Every hole in the grill permits heat to escape and increases the draft which will, in turn, raise the temperature. You want the temperature as low as possible. You will have to mop and turn the meat about every 30 minutes. Since there are very few of us who can make the fire and the meat come out even, this can work to your advantage. You can cook meat for several meals in one sitting, freeze what you don't eat today, and reheat later. If you use this open method of barbecuing, you'll have to watch it every minute and judge the doneness by sight. It should take at least 2 hours. Just remember that ribs and chicken should be limber when they are cooked through. Real barbecued beef is never rare, so the meat should be moist and gray when it is done. My only concern with this type of barbecuing is that it is so hard to get people to keep the heat down. I remember well when we were young poor graduate students and some eager soul would invite us over to a barbecue wherein the cook had marinated a chuck roast for hours and hours in some magic secret sauce, then attempted to grill it like a fine T-bone steak, Tastes just like steak, the hopeful cook would say. We could usually only nod politely because the tough meat seemed to be growing in our mouths. It's just one of the most elementary laws for cooking protein. You must have moisture and a low heat source to tenderize a tough piece of meat.

By: Linda West Eckhardt From: The Only Texas Cookbook, Texas Monthly Press, 1981