Everything smells like meat.
Behold: two 11-pound packer-cut beef briskets, destined for the smoker.
They got a quick and dirty rubdown with salt, pepper, garlic and ground pasilla.
After three hours on the smoker:
Puff puff puff.
After 5 hours:
And a scant 9 hours later, we had brisket!
Behold the pink smokey goodness.
This is about as far as Brian got slicing it before it became so tender it just started pulling part.
Tomorrow, we feed the masses. Well, 25 people, anyway.