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Beef Spiedini — The Brisket We Saved for the Week That Mattered

The week after. We are state champions. The boys came back to school Monday morning to a building that had been transformed over the weekend by the school staff and the boosters — gold and white streamers in the hallways, a banner over the main entrance, a special assembly Tuesday afternoon, signs, posters, a digital scoreboard in the cafeteria with the final score in giant numbers. The Tuesday assembly was an hour long. The principal spoke. The AD spoke. Each captain spoke briefly. I spoke last. I said something I do not remember exactly, but it ended with "Thank you for letting us represent you. We will not forget. Go Eagles."

The town held a parade Saturday afternoon. Convertibles. Police escort. The team riding in the back of trucks down Main Street with the trophy. Diego in one truck. Daquan in another. Marcus in a third. The mayor at the front. The marching band behind. About four thousand people lined the route, which is a meaningful number for a parade in a Denver suburb in early December. The kids waved. Lisa stood on the curb with the twins and Sofia and her sister Carrie. I rode in a truck with Mike Reyes and Tony Davis. Mike said, halfway through the parade, "Carlos, this is a thing." I said, "Mike. This is a thing." Tony said, "This is the thing." We drove. We waved. We smiled.

The week was a blur of media — the local TV stations interviewed the kids, a reporter from the Post wrote a long feature on Daquan and his recruitment, a national football podcast called me Tuesday for an hour-long interview about the program. I did the interviews. I tried to deflect to the boys. I tried to make sure every kid on the roster got mentioned at least once. I tried to mention Ruben in one of the interviews. I told the podcast host about my brother — about him serving, about him dying, about the dog tags I wear. The host paused. The host said, "Coach, I am sorry." I said, "Thank you." The host said, "I think you just gave us the moment of the interview." I said, "I am not trying to give you a moment. I am trying to honor my brother." The host said, "Yeah. I get it." The episode aired Friday. Lisa listened to it in the kitchen and cried. Mamá listened to it on her phone in Las Cruces and called me and could not speak for the first thirty seconds.

Diego was named first-team all-state. The Denver Post named him Player of the Week for the championship game. Three different colleges that had been recruiting him for general interest started calling more aggressively — Boise State offered a scholarship Tuesday, Wyoming offered one Wednesday, Air Force re-offered Thursday. Diego said no to all of them. He is a Ram. He committed to CSU in April. He is going to honor that commitment. Diego does not change his mind once he has made it up, which is something he got from Lisa.

Saturday I cooked the leftover brisket from the freezer — I had a couple of vacuum-sealed bags from a smoke I had done in October — and we had a small family dinner with the twins and Sofia. Diego was at Hayley's family's house for a celebration dinner with her parents. Just the four of us at the table. Lisa, me, Sofia, Marco, Elena. Lisa said, "Carlos. We are going to remember this week the rest of our lives." I said, "Yeah, we are." Sofia said, "Dad. Are you going to coach next year." I said, "Yeah, Soph. I am going to coach next year." She said, "Even though you won." I said, "Especially because I won. The job is not done. There are more boys who need coaching. The job continues." She nodded. She thought about it. She said, "I think you are going to coach until you cannot stand up anymore." I laughed. I said, "That is probably right." She said, "Then you go home." I said, "Then I go home." She said, "Where is home." I said, "Las Cruces, eventually." She nodded. She kept eating.

The twins were quiet during this exchange. They are ten and they have lived their entire lives with a coach for a father, and the championship has been the only thing the adults have talked about for nine days, and they have absorbed the gravity of it without quite understanding what it means. They will understand later. For now they are eating brisket and hoping there is dessert.

Lisa's dad called Saturday night. He had watched the parade on the local news. He said, "Carlos. I am proud." I said, "Thank you, Doug." He said, "Lisa, can I talk to you." I handed her the phone. She went into the den. She came back twenty minutes later. She said, "He is going to look at the facility next month. He is going to consider it." I said, "Lisa. That is real progress." She said, "I know." We did not say more. She went to bed at ten. I sat in the den with the trophy. The dog tags were on the chain. The road bends. Feed your people. The game is won at the table. The game has been won.

I had those vacuum-sealed bags of brisket sitting in the freezer since October, and I had been saving them without knowing exactly what I was saving them for — and then Saturday came, nine days after the game, and the parade was done and the interviews were done and it was just the four of us at the table, and I understood. The beef was what that night called for: something I had prepared ahead of time, something slow and intentional, something that said we planned for this moment even before we knew it was coming. Beef Spiedini is how I think about that kind of cooking — layered, assembled with care, best shared with the people who were there for the whole season, not just the final score.

Beef Spiedini

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs beef sirloin or top round, sliced thin (1/4 inch or less)
  • 1/2 cup Italian-seasoned breadcrumbs
  • 1/4 cup grated Pecorino Romano or Parmesan cheese
  • 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  • 1/4 cup olive oil, plus more for drizzling
  • Salt and black pepper to taste
  • 1 small white onion, cut into 1-inch pieces (for skewering between beef rolls)
  • 1 bay leaf per skewer (optional, traditional)
  • Lemon wedges, for serving

Instructions

  1. Prepare the filling. In a bowl, combine breadcrumbs, grated cheese, parsley, garlic, and red pepper flakes. Drizzle in 2 tablespoons of olive oil and mix until the breadcrumbs are evenly moistened. Season lightly with salt and pepper.
  2. Pound and season the beef. If the slices are not already very thin, place them between plastic wrap and pound gently to an even 1/4-inch thickness. Pat dry and season both sides lightly with salt and pepper.
  3. Fill and roll. Lay each slice flat. Spread a thin, even layer of the breadcrumb mixture across the surface, leaving a small border at one edge. Roll the slice tightly from one end to the other, forming a compact cylinder.
  4. Skewer. Thread the beef rolls onto metal or soaked wooden skewers, alternating each roll with a piece of onion and, if using, a bay leaf. Pack the rolls snugly so they hold their shape during cooking.
  5. Oil and grill. Brush the assembled skewers lightly with the remaining olive oil. Grill over medium-high heat (or cook under a broiler set to high) for 3 to 4 minutes per side, turning once, until the beef is cooked through and the exterior is lightly charred at the edges.
  6. Rest and serve. Let the skewers rest for 2 to 3 minutes off the heat. Serve with lemon wedges squeezed over the top and a simple green salad or roasted vegetables alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 21g | Carbs: 11g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 430mg

Carlos Medina
About the cook who shared this
Carlos Medina
Week 452 of Carlos’s 30-year story · Denver, Colorado
Carlos is a high school football coach and married father of four in Denver whose family has been in New Mexico since before the Mayflower landed. He grew up on his grandmother's green chile — roasted over an open flame, the smell thick enough to stop traffic — and he puts it on everything. Eggs, burgers, pizza, ice cream once on a dare. His cooking is hearty, New Mexican, and built to feed a team. Literally.

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