Across frozen state, prized BBQ wood goes up in smoke

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. The post oak wood that I spent hours meticulously debarking and cutting down was supposed to go out in a blaze of glory, a sacrifice to the gods of barbecue in exchange for a perfect brisket or a showstopping rack of pork ribs.

Instead it died alone and uncelebrated in a fireplace for mere warmth, a death more fitting for chopped cedar than a wood of its noble bearing.

There was no other choice.

The power was out, and I have a wife who is eternally cold and uses a space heater in June, a 13-year old-child, an obnoxious cat and a spoiled dachshund used to all the creature comforts. So in went the good stuff, even though the heat generated was only noticeable in a 48-degree home if you were sitting 5 feet from the flames.

Post oak, pecan and, to a certain degree, mesquite are the woods that make Texas barbecue great. These woods add specific flavors with their smoke. They add Texas personality, and without them, what are you left with?

Arkansas barbecue? (Whatever that is.)

And all across Texas, prized stashes of the good stuff like mine went up in smoke during Snowmageddon. Times were tough. Choices were made.

Kevin Knight of San Antonio was able to use his supply of oak and hickory for more noble purposes. He was able to feed about 50 of his Bulverde neighbors once the power went out and before his wood stack was depleted.

“We didn’t end up tossing our wood into the fireplace, but I know of a lot of people who did,” Knight said. “I guess you could say that one of the benefits of being a barbecue enthusiast is

Getty Images Last month, personal and commercial barbecue wood stockpiles were wiped out as Texans tossed them on the fire for warmth.