Goode ol’ time in Texas

You can take the boy out of the country but you can’t take the barbecue out of the boy. Science has proven that Texas children possess a barbecue gene which instills in them a deep craving for brisket, jalapeno sausage, and pecan pie.

I have occasionally tried to satisfy the barbecue gene in SoCal but that is like trying to satisfy the sushi gene in Nebraska. SoCal barbecue is basically boiled meat with ketchup.

Yum.

As part of my new Masters Profamateur Training Program I now get a lot of rest, and what better place to rest from cycling than Houston, where they actually pay a bounty for cyclist pelts. In Houston you can also rest from your strict profamateur diet of gruel, warm oxygen, and toasted water by visiting Goode Company BBQ.

Goode Company, also known as “heaven” or “paradise” is the perfect place to refill your arteries with crudescence of plaque and other “deep vein” fuel sources that will act as energy reserves later in the racing season and during angioplasty and stents.

My recommendations for training foods when you’re back in Texas:

  1. Brisket
  2. Jalapeno sausage
  3. Pinto beans
  4. Tater salad
  5. Jalapeno bread
  6. Big ol’ slab of pecan pie

Be sure to keep a bed and soft pillow nearby, as 10 minutes after eating, all the blood in your body will sprint to your gut causing you to fall over and snore loudly.

END

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16 thoughts on “Goode ol’ time in Texas”

    1. bludso’s is amazing and not that far from the South Bay.

      Easily one of Los Angeles’ few, great restaurants. Call a big order in. It makes great leftovers.

  1. My “Texas” isn’t well nurtured, but on one of my few visits to the Houston area we did hit a roadside Barbeque deli/bakery on the road to Austin, and I recall big helpings of 1-6!

    1. In Texas it’s not a matter of finding great BBQ, it’s a matter of pushing away from the trough.

  2. I’ve had great Q in TX, especially Austin. In the southeast, the quality of the BBQ of directly attributable to the quality of the building in which it’s housed. The closer it is to being condemned, the better the BBQ. Of course, it’s mostly pork which really isn’t but it’s close.

  3. Guessing that old gentlemen you were unintentionally roughing up on the plane out to TX was never a masters cyclist – way too much perspective. Guessing he was a wiry old dude who’s had a drill Sargent or two threaten a boot up his ass back the day. So, a foot stomp followed up by a cream shot from the scrawny 150lb wonder that is the Wankster was non-event in life.

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