O COPPA! MY COPPA!
About 6 months ago I wrote something cute about struggling over waiting a couple weeks for some meat to cure. Six months later it’s ready. And I know what it means to wait. Looking back at those early, fidgeting days, I believe I’ve come to understand the technical term for my condition: being an ...
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GRANDMA’S FURNICE
One thing I’m learning about brewing is that it requires a certain foresight that I lack. Basically I get an idea for what might taste good right then and decide to brew it. Easy enough. But what happens in the interim (namely 1-3 months of fermenting, dry hopping and bottle conditioning) tends to ...
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LEFTY’S BLUES
I’ve been living on the road, but I’m not feeling free and clean. One of the better perks of my job is seeing what was once pen and paper become something visual, hopefully entertaining and occasionally pretty damn good. It’s a process that brings me in touch with some very talented and ...
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ONE SEXY BIRD
I’m what you might call a late adopter. Exaltations of new and revolutionary tend to be met with a great deal of suspicion, if not outright derision, in my house. To my mind the tried and true will always win out over the hot and newfangled. Typically, when presented with the latest version of ...
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BRODO!
I hate exclamation points. For years I ardently refused to use them. I find them irritating. I find them odd. I find them to be punctuation abuse. I don’t speak in exclamations, why would I type in them? To my mind, if you want to convey excitement write some exciting words. Don’t just slap an ...
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BURGERZILLA
A couple years back, I remember asking my buddy Skinny what he did with his leftover brisket. Skinny is sort of my good ol’ boy ‘cue mentor and has routinely smoked 6-8 briskets for every Longhorn tailgate since he was about 2 years old. He knows his shit. And his beef. And I figured there would ...
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NOTES FROM THE DESK OF MY BEARD
I’ve had a beard for the better part of a decade. For me ceasing shaving was an assertion of freedom and self-reliance. After years in the restaurant industry and a few years waiting tables, where I often had to shave twice a day, it was time to let my freak flag fly. No more ironing my black and ...
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