Franklin's barbecue book gives fans pitmaster's techniques, recipes (2024)

There's smoke coming out of Aaron Franklin's ears today, and it's not from tending the flames at his internationally famous temple of smoked meat, Franklin's Barbecue in Austin.

No, today he's hopping mad at a recently proposed Austin City Council resolution that seeks to limit barbecue smoke in residential areas and require businesses cooking with wood or charcoal to install expensive smoke scrubbers. It's not a smart ordinance, he contends. He also fears it could spell the end for businesses like his. "We would leave town if that were the case," he said, "or close."

An Austin without barbecue? A world without Franklin's? Perish the thought. Though the resolution has since been modified, it was enough to put a scare into the man who put Austin at the white-hot center of the planet's barbecue map. And that perceived threat to the city's barbecue tradition came only days before the publication of Franklin's first barbecue book, "Franklin Barbecue: A Meat-Smoking Manifesto" (Ten Speed Press, $29.99), co-authored with Jordan Mackay.

The smoke clouds have cleared, which gives barbecue lovers the perfect opportunity to pull apart and savor this DIY book written by a decidedly DIY man. Franklin's smoky opus is really a workbook for the patient, detail-obsessed practitioners of barbecue. Technical and yes, maybe even nerdy, it's stuff both the backyard-barbecue junkie and the smoked-meat geek live for.

The authors have approached the topic with a zeal for understanding how things work and how they're put together. That's what drove Franklin to begin his own barbecue quest: an eggheady curiosity coupled with a confidence to do the job better than the last.

"And that's basically the approach I've taken my whole barbecue career and am still taking today, working every day to improve my smokers, and my restaurant in general to make it more efficient, more consistent, and more durable," he writes.

A little bit about that career.

Franklin, 37, confesses early in the book that he didn't start cooking barbecue to become a master of his craft, much less one of its superstars.

"All I had was my own hands, a work ethic, a positive attitude, and a sense of humor," he writes.

Initially it was the culture of barbecue that got him interested: the lure of the fire, the patient anticipation, the camaraderie and beers that attend the slow cook (and, too, the quiet solitude of manning the fire in the wee hours). That led to the quest for better flavor and daily consistency, which is the most difficult thing to manage for any barbecue enterprise.

Though fame came quickly for Franklin's Barbecue, the would-be pitmaster started out on very shaky ground. He began his amateur barbecue game with a New Braunfels Hondo Classic Charcoal Smoker, purchased for $99 at Academy, and cheap supermarket meat. After a series of barbecue cookouts, he and his wife, Stacy, staged for friends (while he was employed in a variety of odd jobs), he said he began daydreaming of opening his own place.

In December 2009, the Franklins opened their barbecue trailer. Within a month they were busy; a month later, when their first review came out, they got mobbed with fans showing up before the joint even opened. That popularity led to a restaurant that opened in spring 2011. The rest is barbecue history as smoked-meat lovers from across the globe made Franklin's the most famous barbecue joint in the world. Now Aaron Franklin is a household name. He's got a nomination for Best Chef: Southwest from the James Beard Foundation, the Oscars of the food world; he's got a cookbook; and he has a cooking show coming in May on public television.

Franklin calls barbecue "a finicky little monster." But it's a monster he has famously slain.

We talked to him a week before the publication of the book:

Q: First of all, congratulations on your James Beard Foundation nomination (for Best Chef: Southwest). That's huge. Are you excited?

A: Out of control. I still kind of think it's a joke. But now I'm worried it's real. I saw it on Twitter that I was a semifinalist. Then someone sent me a text message about the official nomination. I thought wow. What if it's a real chance we have to win? It would be a monumental shift in the culinary world.

Q: So you're going to the awards?

A: I'd be a real jerk if we didn't represent barbecue as a whole.

Q: When you started your business, were you aware barbecue was trending in Texas?

A: No, I didn't think it was trending. It was trending for me. But yeah, I didn't hear anything about this stuff. I didn't even notice a barbecue renaissance until about a year into the trailer. When we opened the trailer, nobody else was doing that. Maybe it was there and I didn't notice, or it didn't happen yet.

Q: But you have to agree your timing was amazing.

A: Absolutely. It couldn't have been more perfect. We kind of got lucky. We tried very hard, and things naturally fell in place.

Q: If you weren't doing barbecue, what would you be doing?

A: I don't know. I probably could see me owning some type of wood shop, building something. Maybe guitar repair. Some little local place.

Q: You were a drummer in a band? What happened to that?

A: I haven't touched my drums until about two weeks before the trailer opened. They're sitting in a closet. Life caught up with me a bit.

Q: And how has being a parent changed you?

A: It's made me want to spend a lot more time at home, that's for sure. I really try a lot harder: About 4 o'clock in the afternoon I say, "I'm going to go home and make dinner." I try to make more of an effort to spend more time at home.

Q: When you started cooking barbecue, you said you had "negative talent."

A: Think about what was going on then. That was 12 years ago. The first time I cooked a brisket, I tried to look up a recipe online using a dial-up. There weren't books on what I wanted to do. I had to make it up. Now if you want to cook a brisket, you go online to find out.

Q: Work ethic and understanding how things work play a big role in making your barbecue better. Are you saying if you put your whole self into barbecue, anyone could be as good as you?

A: I don't see why not.

Q: Who is this book for? And will it make everyone dedicated to barbecue better at it?

A: I wrote it for the "me" 10 years ago. For anybody, really. I feel pretty OK sharing what I've learned about barbecue if it helps other people. It's my little way of giving back.

Q: So you weren't afraid of giving away secrets and recipes?

A: No, not really. There's no black-and-white recipe for barbecue. It comes from the heart. It comes from human touch. But with a little bit of knowledge, you can pick up a lot.

Q: When you see those people lined up every day, what goes through your mind?

A: The first thing when I look out there, I say I hope we get it right. I guess I also think that it's just nuts that people are hanging out for this. I would certainly stand in line for barbecue, and I certainly have. But it's pretty special to be on the receiving side of that. It means a lot to us. We don't take it for granted.

Q: What is the one thing people want to know most when they finally get to you?

A: It's all over the place. It could be anything from, "Hey, my parents are in town; thanks for giving us something to do." Or, "Hey, I met my girlfriend here, and we're getting married." Or, "Thanks for the videos." Or, "We flew in from …" I spend a lot of time answering questions.

Q: Do you enjoy the barbecue banter?

A: I love talking to people. I think it's great. I don't have to try to do it. If I had to try, I wouldn't be authentic. I appreciate each and every person who comes here. We want to do everything we can to make them happy and make them feel welcome.

Q: Where is barbecue headed in Texas?

A: I don't know. Maybe today's not a great day to ask me that. I don't know what our future holds in town.

Q: But do you feel the barbecue boom is still strong?

A: It's really hard to say. On one hand, you think this barbecue bubble is going to burst and move on to something else. But on the other hand, maybe we've hit enough awareness, which is a good thing. Maybe it'll keep going.

Q: And what about your own legacy?

A: Maybe 100 years from now Franklin Barbecue will still be here. I doubt it, but you never know.