Does a pitmaster’s character matter?
I recently visited a new, out-of-state barbecue joint and chatted up its owner. The man seemed a bit cagey — not unusual behavior for a pitmaster when a stranger with pen and notepad approaches the counter and starts asking questions. I pressed a little, and we wound up having a friendly discussion about his venture. I placed an order and sat down at a table.
He delivered my tray himself. Then he said something I’ve never heard in 10 years of writing about food: “You may find some bad things I’ve done in the past. I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention them.”
Taken aback — I conjured images of a knife-wielding pitmaster charging a hapless writer after a bad review — I sputtered something about not being in the tabloid business and that I just write about barbecue. He seemed relieved.
Follow-up research did, indeed, find serious legal problems of a financial nature. Documents suggested he had settled with the authorities, however, and was putting the past behind him.
Which raises a question — if you know that a chef/pitmaster/ restaurateur has a checkered past or could be of questionable character, does it affect your decision to publicize or patronize his or her establishment?
The story of Austin chef/restaurateur Paul Qui is a cautionary tale. The “Top Chef” winner was arrested in March, reportedly during a drug- and alcoholfueled bender; charges include assaulting his girlfriend. (The case is pending; his girlfriend signed a non-prosecution affidavit.) The Austin American-Statesman, in a lengthy feature about Qui, wrote in August that public humiliation and outrage following the arrest had taken a financial toll on his restaurants.
But what about trespasses of an arguably less serious nature?
Pitmaster John Mueller weathered a high-profile conflict with his sister, LeAnn Mueller, when she accused him of financial mismanagement at their JMueller BBQ trailer in Austin. He subsequently opened his own trailer, John Mueller Meat Co., which packed in the crowds and garnered rave reviews.
Alas, the success was short lived. The business recently was seized for nonpayment of taxes. If he chooses to open again in the future, will even his most ardent fans continue to forgive his transgressions in exchange for the smoky, peppery beef ribs for which he is known?
Personally, if a chef or pitmaster with a rocky past has paid his dues to society and is trying to turn over a new leaf, I will always give him or her a second chance (but probably not a third). I’m more from the “I don’t care where you’ve been, just where you’re going” philosophy of redemption. Though some convictions, such as for physical assault or abuse, may be unforgiveable.
All that said, as a fourth-generation Texan who grew up in a family that emphasized character and integrity, I believe a pitmaster’s personal reputation is a fundamental ingredient in the greatest traditions of Texas barbecue.
I’ve had the good fortune of speaking with and getting to know the patriarchs and scions of the great Texas barbecue families — Levi Goode of Goode Co. Barbeque, Wayne Mueller of Louie Mueller Barbecue in Taylor, Bryan Bracewell of Southside Market & BBQ in Elgin, just to name a few.
It seems like every conversation I have with them circles back to the responsibilities and duties of owning an iconic Texas barbecue joint. This is accomplished by a commitment to making great barbecue, obviously, but also a dedication to treating family, staff and customers with kindness, respect and courtesy. Those type of joints will always command my attention and patronage.