"Where is my sandwich", my wife Jane asked.

I had to make up something on the spot. I found myself saying, "I thought you might want a hot one. Hold on a second, and I'll go get you one that's fresh!"

We were in the final stretch of the 1500 mile trip from Los Angeles to Houston to show the new baby to all the Aunts, Uncles and Cousins we left behind in 1960.

Somewhere between San Antonio and Houston, I saw a sign that said "Pecan Wood BBQ". I told Jane, "I think it's time we tried one of these Texas BBQ joints", and I pulled off the I-10.

We walked in and it felt like we were transformed back in time to the 1950's. There was sawdust on the floor, rustic wooden tables and one of those bottled drink machines where you have to run the neck of the bottle through a maze and pull it up through a latch. The bottles had long necks. Dr. Pepper outnumbered Coke. Lone Star Beer at the tap. Yeah, this was Texas.

But, it was the smoky smell of the roasting meat that really had my attention. Jane took the baby into the restroom for a change of pants. I brought our older kids, Christian and Erin up to the counter and we all ordered a BBQ Brisket sandwich.

I watched the girl make the sandwich. A normal hamburger bun, and a bunch of beef that was so cooked it was falling apart. No red catsup based sauce, just the meat. I wondered if it would be too plain.

When I sat down and took a bite it was fantastic. Smoky flavor, juicy tender meat. I can't describe how it hit the spot. I ate mine in about four bites. Then I wanted more. Jane hadn't made it back from the restroom yet, so I just grabbed hers and started eating it.

Then we had the "where's my sandwich" exchange. I went up to the counter and ordered another one. I presented it to Jane and she took a bite. "OH! GOD!" she said. "This is really, really good!". I smiled and nodded. "I know, that's why I had to eat your first one. It's just so good. There has to be a way to make this at home, and I'm going to figure it out!".

Then about five years went by. We were going to Houston again to see all the Aunts and Uncles and Cousins again, but this time we decided to fly. "Why don't we fly into San Antonio instead of Houston, rent a car and drive that stretch. We can stop at that little BBQ place outside of Houston!". Jane was all for it. We booked the trip, rented the car and drove. But, the place was not only closed when we got there, it had sold, and it said nothing about Pecan wood. We were really disappointed. If we had known this, we would have just flown into Houston. But, the memory of those sandwiches was still so strong.

Some time after that, I was at Home Depot, and they had big Texas style smokers on sale. This is the type that is cast iron. It has a firebox to the left, where you build a wood fire. Then there is another compartment that is big like a 30 gallon trash can turned on its side. This is where the meat goes. Then on the far end of that compartment is a chimney. The idea is to build the fire over to the left, then the chimney draws the heat and smoke across the meat and out. So, there is never hot coals or flame under the meat, only hot smoke.

I bought the thing immediately, fully assembled and put it in the back of my suburban. When I got home, I told Jane that I was finally going to be able to make those sandwiches that we had in Texas.

But, that's where it stopped, because I had no idea of what to do next. The smoker sat and sat.

Another year went by, and this time we were going to attend a Fellowship north of Dallas. I had to sneak into Texas, under my relative's radar, because I'm not technically allowed in the state of Texas if I don't come and visit them. But, I only had so much time, so I just failed to mention it to any of them.

When we got to the house where the Fellowship was being held, I started wandering around. Having not been in the group that we do not mention in this Forum, I have to find things to entertain myself with. I ended up in the back yard, and there sat a smoker very similar in design to the one I had sitting in my back yard unused for a year.

When it came time for lunch, our host unveiled a smoked Brisket! I wondered if it could possibly taste like the meat from the place six years before. I asked our host if he had smoked it himself, and he said he had. If he had smoked it in the smoker outside. He had. And finally, what kind of wood. "Pecan", he answered.

I wondered if this Brisket could be anything like the one we had six years ago. I tasted it and BINGO! I knew I was finally on to someone who could help me.

Jane and I had just hosted a fellowship at our house less than a week before, so I did not want to tie him up with teaching me "smoking 101". But, I knew for sure that I was going to be doing some email with this guy.

At one point, I was standing around a fire pit he had dug in his back yard. Some people were talking about roasting marshmallows. Our host walked up and said, "If I knew you wanted to do that, I would have put in some better wood!". I looked at him and asked, "Do you believe that this wood might impart a bad taste upon the marshmellow's?". He looked at the burning wood and said, "Well, that's just a bunch of old 2x4's. I can put better wood in there". It was a lock. I had my mentor.

A few months after the fellowship in Texas, I found myself testing out Paltalk. I opened up a room and who showed up, but the guy from Texas with the smoker. George was also in the room a lot, and he always seemed to be grilling something while we were on Paltalk. So, that helped me to ease into extracting the information I needed.

One day, we were in the room talking very intensely about how to smoke a brisket, when a stranger came in. We just kept talking about brisket and smoking, and the stranger asked us who we were. George mentioned that they were former members of a certain group that we shall not mention in here. When the stranger asked more about the what we were doing, I explained that we were a "Brisket Cult". "A brisket cult? Like meat?", the stranger asked, apparently confused. "Yes, we are a brisket cult, we talk about brisket". Then I referred to my friend from Texas, "and he is our Brisket Prophet".

We went on talking about Brisket for quite some time.

I had no idea where to get Pecan wood, and it looked for awhile like I might have to do it with oak. But, finally I got on the internet and found a web page where I guy in Texas would sell me Pecan chunks. I got 50 lbs of wood for $50.00 delivered. The Brisket Prophet sounded a bit queasy on the phone when I told him what I had paid for so little wood. But, I had wood, and it was PECAN.

Jane went to the store and got us a brisket. When she came back, I looked at it. It seemed kind of small. I called the Brisket Prophet (BP) in Texas:

Joseph: Jane bought a brisket, but I think it is kind of small.

BP: Really, what does it weigh?

Joseph: Two pounds.

BP: Are you SURE it's a BRISKET?

Joseph: Well, it says brisket on it. But, this is California. Here if you go in and order BBQ, you are likely to get some microwaved lunch meat with catsup poured all over it. These people have no idea what they are doing when it comes to this kind of thing.

BP: Well.. you can give it a try. At least it won't take very long to get done.

I made the marinade. Beer, picante sauce, garlic and other spices in a blender. I let it soak in it all night.

The next morning, I started my fire. I took pictures so I could email them to the BP. He told me not to use newspaper, or any chemicals to start the fire. I had gone to Home Depot and bought this plug in thing that heats up to start charcoal, but used it to start the wood chunks.

I made a mop sauce out of mostly vinegar and, oil and spices.

Then I smoked the thing for about 12 hours. It smelled so good, we couldn't believe it. Same smell that BBQ joint in Texas had years ago. We were so excited.

Finally, we took it up, because it was so small, there was no way there would be anything left of it if we let it smoke over night. It wasn't falling apart, but it you could eat it. Jane sat there wearing an Armadillo T-Shirt, and we really enjoyed it, even though it was about 8 lbs too small, and not quite cooked apart.

After that, I tried a few more experiments. I still hadn't found a decent brisket, or enough Pecan wood to get the job done properly. I kept working on it. In the meantime I smoked everything I could find. Some Trout I had caught up in the High Sierras, Some chicken Breasts, a pork roast. It was all good, but it wasn't a big falling apart brisket.

One Saturday afternoon, I just went and picked up the phone book. Inside there were firewood listings. George had urged me to go to firewood places and see if one had Pecan. But, I was certain nobody would, so I didn't even check. But, no I was desperate. So, I called one that had an add that said he had hardwoods.

Wood Guy: Hello?

Joseph: Hello. Do you have Pecan?

Wood Guy: Pecan what?

Joseph: Pecan WOOD.

Wood guy: yeah, I've got Pecan.

(I dropped the phone)

Joseph: Really? Do you have a half cord?

Wood Guy: Yeah, I could probably put together a half cord. Where are you?

Joseph: Lake View Terace.

Wood Guy: (Laughing). Really?

Joseph: Yeah… so?

Wood Guy: Do you remember seeing a big pile of fire wood at Foothill and Wentworth for the last few years? That was me. I just had to move to Pasadena, but we've been right in your neighborhood for years!

We negotiated a price of $180.00 delivered and stacked, that to me was well worth it. But, the BP thought it was very high by Texas standards. "Mary! What did we pay for that rick of Pecan? Really? Yeah, Joseph, we paid about $45.00".

I refused to be upset about it. This was the fulfillment of a QUEST. Now, I had to find a real brisket!

Again, I picked up the phone book. "Wholesale meat to the public". It was just down on Van Nuys Blvd, about five miles from my house. I walked in:

Butcher: Yes

Joseph: Can you get me a brisket?

Butcher: Yeah, how big?

Joseph: 10-12 lbs.

Butcher: (leans in to me) What are you gonna do with it?

Joseph: Smoke it.

Butcher: You want me to smoke it?

Joseph: NO! I'm going to smoke it. (I pictured coming in and getting some dried out piece of crap. No way was this unanointed California Butcher going to smoke my brisket).

Butcher: You want it today?

Joseph: No, I'd like to smoke it next weekend, just give me a call when you have it.

He called back that same day, and I raced over, but he was closed. Later in the week Jane went and picked it up. She called me at work, "Are you sure about this? This thing is HUGE!".

"Huge".. I thought. GREAT!

So, on Saturday morning I got up, and we went and had breakfast with my Mother. I explained how excited I was. She grew up in Texas, and all she had to say about it was, "You guys and your briskets".

I got home and started the fire. It was going by 11:AM enough to put the brisket in the smoking chamber. It was so big, that I didn't have anything large enough to marinade it in. So, I tossed it into a 30 gallon plastic garbage bag, poured in the marinade and tied a knot in the bag. Then shook it around and shoved it the refrigerator. When I took it out, it looked really gross. This is not a pretty piece of meat when it is raw. It has a huge fat cap along the top, and it looks kind of like a severed elephant tongue. I got out a huge aluminum turkey pan, and it didn't really fit. So, I forced it in, bending the pan out of shape. "It will shrink", I told myself.

Then, I sat at the computer and emailed the BP. He gave me more pointers. I told him that I felt like this was my final exam, and I didn't care if I had to smoke that big son of a bitch the rest of my life, I was going to have a smoky falling apart brisket sandwich like the one I had outside Houston six years ago, if it killed every cow in Texas.

I got myself into a routine where I would go out at the top of every hour, check the fire and put on the mop sauce. The brisket started to get smaller, but the juice began to rise. I called the BP and asked what to do. He told me not to worry about it, unless it overflows. Then just save some of it and baste it with that.

Night began to fall. At about 10:00pm I put in the biggest piece of pecan wood I could fit, and went to bed.

At midnight, my daughter Erin (16) called and said that she and some friends had broken down in Van Nuys. I told her I'd come over and get them. I checked the fire, it was going great. When I got in at about 1:00am, I was wide awake, and checked it again. I put in another big piece of wood just in case, and went to bed.

I woke up at about 6:00am, and wondered if the fire had gone out and the meat had just sat out there and rotted or something. I ran out, and it was still going, right in the perfect range of temperature. I woke Jane up to help me get the thing out of the smoker. It was falling apart!

I took a digital picture below, of the meat all fallen apart in a dish, and posted it for the BP to see. His comment, "That picture made me hungry". I felt that I had passed my final exam. Later that day we made sandwiches, and they were better than the ones we had outside Houston years ago.

And what of the Brisket Prophet? Well, he opened up a new Forum on Newdaynews this week called "Casual Corner" to give us a place to talk about stuff we do in our daily lives. Yes, the Brisket Prophet is our own David C.