My wife is a foodie. I’m not. Don’t get me wrong – I love good food. The problem is I like bad food as much as good, and I’m not sure I have the critical palette that most foodies have. I cross back and forth over that line between “food as art” and “food as function.”

Eat to Live vs. Live to Eat.

Tuesday was definitely a Live to Eat kind of day. Lucas, Rey and I set out on a road trip to BBQ hotbeds Luling and Lockhart. Nothing new here. Texans have made this pilgrimage to pay their respects to some of the best food anywhere for years.

This was not about having a nice meal. We were very deliberate in our trip, visiting three different barbecue joints along the way and performing an unofficial comparison. No forks. No potato salad. No beans. No sides in sight. Just some of the best pit-smoked brisket, ribs, sausage and pork chops we could find. And Big Red.

Our hands moved in a blur as we devoured the meat. Pound by pound. Link by link. We were in and out of each place in thirty minutes. Like cold-blooded assassins, we moved quickly, stopping only briefly to photograph our conquest. Very few words were spoken as we finished the deed.

Okay, that last part may have been a bit melodramatic. I guess the point I’m trying to make is this: I like food.


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