A Smoker's Harvest

My family does food quite well. We don't all do food in the same way, but we do it very, very well. One point of pride which we hold in high regard would be my father's building and manning of a smoker from an old propane tank. We didn't light the smoker at dinner time or evey weekend or for even for the occasional football game. No, no, the greater scope of life would've been intimidated by this. Flooded by such intense glory that it would've thrown off the balance of things. Entire populations of creatures would drop to dangerously low levels. No-- this was once an experience for once a year or sometimes once every two. The smoker, when lit, would have a minimum of three days of support from someone who was home. The smoker would be loaded full of dozens and dozens of cuts of meat and whole poultry, while the smoke-free oven that he'd put on the end would be utilized for all other meals. Meats rubbed with my father's own spice rub would come bubbling and encrusted with black (the best part) from the vast abdomen of this great beast and straight onto the slicing board to melt its tender flesh into our souls (yes, souls!).

That is how the smoker went.

A small sampling of the resulting treasures!
Smoker Credit: Dad                   Photo Credit: Mom

Recent years, however, have left the parents busy and the smoker lie in a period of primordial hibernation in their backyard. Its dormant state was unassuming and humble. However, my father rousted the dragon. I drove down to them a grass-fed brisket, market-made pork bratwurst (I'm not usually a fan, but SMOKED is different), a pork butt, and sweet potatoes. In addition to that, they send back those things, a whole chicken, and a rack of ribs.

Life is good. :)