Brisket cooking is a journey: a delicious, meaty, anxiety-filled journey that can have even the most seasoned pitmaster staring at the smoker, wondering, “What have I done? ” If you’ve found yourself pacing around an expensive cut of meat muttering about temperatures and cook times, congratulations-you’re normal. If you have brisket stress, you are not alone.
If I were to watch a video of myself on brisket cook day, it would be of me looking at the temperature 80 times, doing timing math in my head, talking to whoever will listen about stalls and when to wrap it in paper. You get the idea. You have a lot of time to overthink. You have a lot of time to watch YouTube videos on what you are supposed to do.
Don’t let the brisket get in your head. Keep it chill. It’s just food. Let’s break down the parts of cooking brisket that tend to make me stress out, mess up, or flat-out panic.
- Trimming
- Seasoning
- Temperature
- The stall
- Cook time
- The rest
- Slicing
- Impatient friends and family (just kidding)
- The Toronto Blue Jays (oh I’m totally kidding)
The Trim: “Do I cut here or is this the meat?
You’ve got your brisket. It’s beautiful, it’s marbled, and it costs more than your first car. Time to trim it, right? But wait. Now you are staring at a thick cap of fat on top, which looks like it was designed by someone who has never cooked a day in their life. As Sam the Cooking Guy would say, fat is flavour, right? But too much fat is, well, a greasy disaster. And here’s where the paralysis sets in. You’ll find yourself Googling “how much fat to leave on brisket” and land on a Reddit thread that has 16 different opinions. One will say leave it all on, the next will say trim it as if giving the brisket a military buzz cut.
The reality is, the sweet spot is somewhere between hippie mullet and high-and-tight. The general rule of thumb is about a quarter-inch of fat cap, but you know the real secret to this?
You’ll probably screw this up a few times and still end up with some really good brisket. This is one of my biggest worries when doing the brisket. I tend to assume the butcher gives it to you ready to go. In fact, that has happened before after comparing the five briskets I have cooked. But I now know you can’t assume.
Don’t be afraid to break out the kitchen shears or a very, very sharp knife and unleash your inner sculptor. It’s just meat, after all. The worst that can happen is you trim off too much, but then that’s what BBQ sauce is for, right?
Also if you do trim more than you want, those trimmings can be put to good use. Grind it up for some burgers, or render down the fat for some beef talon for another time. Have you had a burger that has brisket meat in it? It’s amazing.
This is one area I will get better at. Hey, I used to never be able to pull the membrane off the backs of ribs and now it’s no problem.
Seasoning: Too much or not enough?
Ah, the brisket seasoning. So simple in concept, yet when in practice, it just isn’t. You’re standing there, shaking salt and pepper like a madman, beads of sweat jumping from your forehead, praying that you haven’t over-salted or under-salted the outside of that beautiful brisket. You want a crusty, flavourized bark, but now your mind is starting to flashback to that one time you totally ruined a steak for being way too heavy-handed with the salt.
Here’s the reality: brisket is a big ol’ hunk of beef. It’ll take all the flavour you want to give it. If anything, err on the side of going big. The worst that’ll happen is the bark will be a little salty, and people will ask for water. Brisket with no seasoning is like a rock concert with no bass-you gotta have the oomph. So throw that rub on there like you’re conducting a flavour symphony. Most BBQ rubs are just salt, pepper, maybe some garlic and paprika. You got this.
For me, I usually stick to just salt and pepper. But I will say the one time I went with BBQ seasoning, it had that dark black bark that looks so cool on Instagram. I also like to use yellow mustard as a binding agent regardless of the spices I use.
Trust your gut. I usually get saved by the magic of the Big Green Egg as it has a way of adding all the flavour you need.
Temperature Control: “Is it 225°F or the surface of the sun?
If brisket had a resume, “sensitive to temperature” would be at the top of its skills section. You’ve got two choices here: low and slow at 225°F or hot and fast at 350°F, but either can be stressful if you don’t know what you’re doing.
Low and slow sounds soothing until you consider the fact that you’ll be staring at your smoker for 10-14 hours. And let’s be honest with ourselves—none of us really have that many hours to stand over a hunk of meat. At some point, you’re going to want to sleep, go to the grocery store, or—heaven forbid—hang out with your family.
This is the method I run with and not because I am trying to avoid the family. Low and slow is the reason why I enjoy having a smoker. I refer to it as a big dog smoke. Getting up in the dark, starting a fire, and enjoying the peace of the morning before life kicks in.
Most of the time, the temperature does lock in and it allows you to enjoy your day or have a nap. This is also why remote thermometers were invented.
Hot and fast is quicker, but it’s got its own kind of stress. You cook it too hot, and you turn your brisket into a leather boot. You go too low and now you’re basically back to low and slow, just less prepared.
And then there’s the internal temperature of the meat itself. Most experts say you want to hit that magical number-about 200°F internal-but here’s a fun secret: your brisket doesn’t care about rules. One brisket will be perfect at 195°F, while another decides to play hardball until 205°F. If your thermometer gets to 200°F and the meat isn’t jiggly like a Jell-O mold, give it more time.
I admit to not checking and just riding with the temperature. Mostly because the meat is usually wrapped making it hard to see a jiggle. I pull it off the grill at 200°F.
Like I mentioned invest in a meat thermometer. It doesn’t work by looking unless you are some kind of meat wizard.
The Stall: “Why has the meat betrayed me?”
Somewhere in every brisket cooker’s life, there’s a moment when time just freezes. One is gliding along in the land of sweet delights, the internal temperature rising like clockwork, until it just stops. Nada. Zilch. It stalls at 160°F, and you start calling into question every decision that ever led you to this moment.
This happened to me the first time I smoked a brisket and it was maddening. I am the type to backtime the whole event and a stall messes it all up.
This is called the brisket stall, and for many, where anxiety meets reality. You start to question everything. Is my smoker broken, my thermometer not reading right, or maybe I ran out of charcoal? You panic and may try to change the temperature, but that only makes it worse. Young Padawan, patience is key here.
If you’re in a real panic, you can use the “Texas Crutch,” which means wrapping the brisket in foil or butcher paper to power through the stall. But if you’re a purist, you grit your teeth and ride it out like a BBQ cowboy. In any case, just know that the stall is part and parcel of brisket’s passive-aggressive personality.
Since my first experience with the stall, I have been wrapping my brisket in foil and most recently, went all fancy with some butcher paper. No more stalls. But at the same time, did I cheat on the experience?
Cook Time: “Why is this taking forever?”
Brisket isn’t like steak. It doesn’t take 10 minutes or even 4 hours. No, brisket takes your time, your attention, and sometimes your soul. You plan for 12-hour cooks and inevitably take longer. Or in my case, the little bigger moves much quicker than expected meaning a longer rest period. Which adds a whole other layer of anxiety. How long is too long? Perhaps your smoker was running a little cooler than you thought. Maybe the brisket just felt stubborn that day. Like I said, each brisket is different.
Anyway, you’ll eventually get to the stage where you’re staring at the brisket, thinking, “Are you done yet?” Well, don’t. If you do, you’ll end up with a tough-chewy-shouldn’t-have-endeavored-into-BBQ mistake. Brisket is done when it is done, not when your dinner guests arrive. This leads us to our next problem.…
The Rest: “It’s done, but I can’t eat it yet?”
You pull it out after the marathon cook, ready to dig in…except you can’t. Nope. The brisket has to rest. You need to let it sit for an hour or two after you cook it-to let the juices redistribute. Cutting into it right away is like opening a piñata too soon-you’ll be missing out on the good stuff.
Resting a brisket is one of those annoyingly important steps. Stick it in a cooler or wrap it in towels, but whatever you do, resist the urge to slice it. Yes, you have waited hours. Yes, the kitchen smells amazing. However, the wait will be worth it.
Extra note here, my last brisket was done pretty early and I ended up letting it rest for almost three hours. It was incredibly juicy and still worked out. I’m tough on myself, so I like to think it would have been better at one hour, but who really knows? But you must let it rest. You must.
Slicing: “Am I doing this right?
The moment of truth finally arrives, you get to slice your masterpiece. But wait! You still can mess it up. Brisket has grain, and cutting against it is key to tender slices. Cutting with the grain will give you beef jerky. The problem? The grain changes direction halfway through the brisket.
You’ll feel like Indiana Jones trying to figure out which way the grain is going. Take a deep breath. Start slicing against the grain off the flat end, and when you hit the point, adjust accordingly. Even if you screw up a slice or two, nobody’s gonna complain about eating brisket, especially if you’ve made it this far.
In the end, relax, it’s just meat
If you have brisket stress, you are not alone
But ultimately, brisket cookin’ is an act of love, and love ain’t perfect. You’ll over-trim fat, you’ll stall longer than you planned, or you may forget to slice against the grain-but that’s the learning process. Remember, the worst that could happen is still dinner, and you’ll get better each time you try. So embrace the anxiety, laugh at the mistakes, and enjoy the delicious journey that is brisket cooking. And hey-if it really goes wrong-there’s always BBQ sauce.
Have a story of brisket stress? I would love to hear about it in the comments. This is a safe meat space after all. Need a few beginner recipes for the Big Green Egg? I have you covered.
