People who know me know that I am a charcoal purist. Not that I am against propane because I understand fully the convenience and the time factors. I will also admit to more than once having drooled over a particularly nice stainless steel beauty and fantasizing about how it would look on my grill pad.  We call it the grill pad because my wife says it looks like Cape Canaveral.

But while propane is convenient, charcoal is sublime. To me charcoal is about relaxing on a gorgeous summer day, beer in hand, listening to the birds, watching the clouds blow by. It evokes memories of my dad showing me how to stack briquettes and tinder to ensure that the charcoal lit and then letting me have a sip of his beer. Just two guys hanging by the fire. Charcoal is ritualistic, the stacking of the coals, the flaming of the match, the smoky perfume, the anticipation of a delicious meal. Charcoal isn’t about speed, it’s about returning to a place of comfort.

I mention all this as a prelude to a discussion of my new toy which we have christened the HMS Smoker. The appellation is anachronistic as regards my wife’s Cape Canaveral reference but is certainly in keeping with a slower, nobler mode of transportation. Low, slow cooking is what smokers are about; they require both planning and patience and reward it in spades.

I’ve never owned a smoker so the first decision that faced me was should I go charcoal or electric?  This was actually a tougher decision than you might think given my charcoal bias. But when I finally pulled the trigger, I went electric. Why? Simply, I can set it up, walk away and not worry about it. A charcoal smoker requires a lot more attention and finesse (purists, please make note of the word I used here) to keep the temperature in the right zone and, frankly I didn’t want to be chained to the smoker for the better part of a day fiddling with the vents. So what about the smoke? The smoke comes from adding wet pieces of hardwood to the fire; electric or charcoal, it doesn’t much make a difference. OK, OK, maybe a little difference but one I was willing to sacrifice in the name of simplicity and consistency.

Out of the box we had to do some very basic assembly such as attaching the handles and interior supports for the grills and liquid pan. Beyond that it only remained to stack the pieces in the right order and fire her up. Being male, I naturally assumed I knew what I was doing so I omitted reading the operating procedures where it tells you to season the inside of the entire unit with cooking oil and let it heat for three hours and then cool completely to avoid having your food acquire the taste of freshly heated paint. Luckily, I found this out about a half hour before launch so we scrubbed the launch, seasoned and cooled the launch vehicle and rescheduled for a later window.

For the maiden voyage of HMS Smoker we selected brisket as our entree. I had mixed my (now) famous dry rub and prepared the brisket 18 hours ahead of time. I also made sure to cut and soak some pieces of bone dry applewood in rain water overnight. I poured one bottle of Sam Adams into the smoker’s liquid pan and another into my glass. I placed the moist applewood chunks around the heating element, carefully lifted the smoker body onto the fuel source, placed my brisket firmly on the top grill and plugged her in. After about 10 minutes the smoke began issuing forth and two and a half hours of delightful anticipation later the brisket was registering 150 degrees on the meat thermometer. Another few minutes on the heat and she was done.

I wish I could adequately describe the rich, savory, smoky flavor of that meat. Everything worked as advertised and my very first attempt at smoking was a success. How do I know? When you hear your kid say, “Dad, I think I ate too much brisket”, you know you done good.