My love of BBQ began when I was very young. My Mother required us, kids, to prepare a dinner for the rest of the family one night a week. We were allotted one pound of ground beef. Since I wasn't fooled by that very popular boxed item that made the erroneous claim to "help hamburger", I struck out into my own culinary territory. My meal usually ended up being some sort of a BBQ Sloppy Joe concoction. My Father (who began to loathe BBQ Sloppy Joes) often voiced his opinion about my dinner nights. His reasoning could have sprouted from my experimental stage where pretty much any spice I could find in the cupboard had a good chance of making its way into my creation. Sometimes it turned out well and other times it didn't, but my family graciously ate it anyway.
Dublin, Texas was one of the places we were privileged to live for a time. We moved there to work on a family dairy. It was 1987 in the 6th grade when I experienced beef brisket for the first time. In fact, it was served for school lunch on Fridays. Brisket Friday quickly became my favorite. Paired with a Dublin Dr. Pepper or a Big Red Soda, school lunches were elevated to a whole new level.
