Our new neighbors, the Clarks are from the Southwestern part of the US. Daddy Clark, pictured above, is quite an amateur chef. The combination of coming from the Southwest and being a home chef means that cooking a brisket is simply in the DNA. With fresh brisket in the freezer it wasn’t long before the smoker was fired up.
I didn’t think to tell Mark that grass-fed beef cooks much faster than traditional grain fed beef. When I stopped back by to check on progress, the brisket was already out of the smoker and resting after about half the normal time. Fortunately Mark had control of his smoker and checked on the brisket to catch it before it was overdone. Something I was very glad of because they were kind enough to share some of the brisket with me. You see, I’m from Eastern NC. If you want a pig killed and grilled, I’m ok with that. Brisket is hamburger that hasn’t been ground according to my upbringing. The only way to get good brisket is to know someone from the right part of the world. Thank goodness those kind folks moved in next door.
You have to have a respect for the animals to have them born, raise them right, then kill them and eat them. You also have to have a bit of a twisted sense of humor. I’m glad to see the new neighbors seem to have both in spades.