By March in Houston. The city is shaking off winter — not that Houston has a real winter, but the fifties and sixties are behind us and the eighties are ahead and there's a specific moment in mid-March when the air shifts and you know: it's coming. Summer. The big one. The six-month endurance test. But right now, in mid-March, it's perfect. Seventy-two degrees. Clear sky. Smoker weather.
Smoked a brisket Saturday — the first pure leisure smoke in weeks. No event, no occasion, no wedding, no party. Just me and the smoker and twelve pounds of prime-grade beef and fourteen hours of my time. I marinated it in the coriander-enhanced rub that I'd perfected for Tyler's wedding and let it go low and slow over oak. The smoke ring was almost two inches — the deepest I've ever achieved. The bark was black and crackling and when I pulled it at 4 PM and sliced through the flat, the juice ran like a faucet. I stood at the cutting board and ate three slices before anyone else arrived, which is the cook's tax and is non-negotiable.
Mr. Washington came over with his wife and their grandkids. The kids — seven and five — are at the age where brisket is magic and the man who makes it is a wizard. The seven-year-old, Marcus (no relation to Tyler's future Marcus — Houston has a lot of Marcuses), asked me how the smoker works. I showed him the firebox, the chamber, the chimney. I explained how heat and smoke flow in one direction and the meat sits in the current like a boat in a river. He said, "Can I try?" I said, "When you're older." He said, "How much older?" I said, "When you can reach the lid without a step stool." He measured himself against the smoker and was two feet short. He did not seem discouraged.
Emma brought Ava. Eight months old and crawling with purpose — she crosses a room in under a minute now, targeting anything shiny, dangerous, or edible. She crawled to the smoker, which I intercepted before she reached the hot metal. She looked up at me with an expression that said, "You are an obstacle." I said, "I am your grandfather and this smoker is four hundred degrees." She did not seem persuaded. We have a negotiation ahead of us, she and I.
Made a side dish I've been working on: smoked elote — Mexican street corn — with a Vietnamese twist. Corn grilled on the smoker, then brushed with a mix of mayo, fish sauce, lime juice, and chili, rolled in crushed peanuts and chopped cilantro. The Mexican-Vietnamese fusion is not a stretch — both cuisines use lime, chili, and herbs as finishing elements. The corn was addictive. James ate four ears and said, "This is going on the restaurant menu." I said, "It's corn." He said, "It's not corn. It's a statement." He's dramatic. But he's not wrong.
James ate four ears of that elote and declared it a statement, and he wasn’t wrong — but every statement needs a good drink to go with it. By the time the brisket was resting and the kids were running laps around the yard and Ava was eyeing the smoker like a strategic problem to be solved, I wanted something cold and a little celebratory in my hand. Something with lime in it, because the whole afternoon had lime in it. This blackberry margarita was exactly that — tart and bright and just sweet enough, the kind of drink that says the smoke is done and the day is yours.
Blackberry Margarita
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 2
Ingredients
- 1 cup fresh blackberries, plus a few for garnish
- 3 oz silver tequila (blanco)
- 2 oz fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)
- 1 1/2 oz triple sec or Cointreau
- 1 oz simple syrup (or to taste)
- 1/2 cup ice, plus more for serving
- Kosher salt or coarse sugar, for the rim
- Lime wedges, for garnish
Instructions
- Make the simple syrup. Combine 1/4 cup sugar and 1/4 cup water in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir until sugar is fully dissolved, about 3–4 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool completely before using.
- Puree the blackberries. Add the blackberries to a blender or food processor and blend until smooth. Pour through a fine-mesh strainer into a bowl or measuring cup, pressing with a spoon to extract as much juice as possible. Discard the seeds and solids.
- Rim the glasses. Run a lime wedge around the rim of two rocks glasses. Dip the rims into a shallow plate of kosher salt (or coarse sugar if you prefer a sweeter edge). Fill each glass with ice.
- Mix the margarita. In a cocktail shaker, combine the blackberry puree, tequila, lime juice, triple sec, and simple syrup. Add the 1/2 cup of ice. Seal and shake vigorously for about 15 seconds until well chilled.
- Strain and serve. Strain the mixture over the ice-filled glasses. Garnish each glass with a fresh blackberry and a lime wedge. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 230 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 210mg