Low and slow, off the clock.
The rest of this site is the perimeter. This corner is the patio. When the consoles are quiet I'm usually stood over fire with a probe in one hand and a beer in the other — so here is the lighter side, written down: what I cook, how I cook it, and the rubs and sauces that do the heavy lifting.
BBQ, by the section.
Everything I make on fire, sorted the way the cooker thinks about it. Recipes are honest portions for a hungry table — adjust to your coals, your climate, and your appetite.
THE RULE — clean smoke, dry surface, sharp knife. Get those three right and the recipe is mostly just timing.
What I'd tell you over the fence.
The handful of things that moved my cooking on more than any single recipe ever did.
Two zones, always. A hot side to sear and a cool side to hold. Most cooking disasters are really fire-management disasters wearing a recipe's clothes.
A probe is the cheapest upgrade you'll ever make. The clock is a guess; the internal temperature is the truth. Pull early, rest long, and let carry-over do the last few degrees.
White billowing smoke is a fire starved of air, and it tastes like an ashtray. Give the coals oxygen, wait for the smoke to go thin and almost invisible, then put the food on.
Cutting straight into a brisket is how you put all the work onto the chopping board instead of the plate. Wrap it, hold it warm, and give it an hour. Impatience is the only ingredient that never improves anything.
If you've cooked something off this page — or want to argue about sauce — tell me. The contact channels on the home page reach me as easily on a Sunday by the cooker as on a Tuesday at the keyboard.