Texas Eggfest 2003
Temple, Texas
A little bit north of the heart of Texas exists an area known to many as "The Buckle of the Bible Belt". In it's southern corner is the city of Temple. Founded in 1880, it was once a major railroad center. Today it is one of the Southwest's leading medical centers and the "Wildflower Capital of Texas". But after October 25th, 2003 it will be forever known as the location of the very first Texas Eggfest.
Conceived by Leroy McMillin, alias "Spring Chicken", and organized through the efforts of Ed Krach, alias "Grillmeister", the first Texas Eggfest was brought forth as an answer to various Eggfests that blossom way too far to the east for many of our Texas Egg brethren. After scouting out several locations and suggestions, the first Texas Eggfest attached itself to the "World of Texas BBQ Cookoff" in Temple, as Temple is fairly centrally located for the Eggfest deprived Texans.
The call to the ceramic faithful was made, and like their ancestors before them they came to make a heroic stand against the black steel hordes of smoke belching monsters fueled by cords of downed forests and bags of hideous chemical abominations ignited with the smelly extracts of long deceased giant creatures that once roamed these blackland prairies. Outnumbered a 100 to 1 they set up their perimeter and attempted to enlighten the barbarous masses and to relieve the ravenous hunger that encircled them.
I, your intrepid reporter, journeyed north from my secure ceramic enclave in Austin to report on these events. I left the Ravness behind as she is unaccustomed to the harsh realities of attempting fine dining in such an environment. Traveling with my faithful companion, "Tibetan Tiger", we set forth on a beautiful October morning with a deep gnawing hunger and the hopes that it would soon be satiated by the many samples of tribute that I had received in previous sojourns among the savage cults of the steel offset tribes and the sure knowledge that my fellow ceramic missionaries would be there with gastric relief if the natives were hostile or their larders empty.
We arrived and began an exploratory probe into the smoky urban wilderness, our sense alert for morsels of sustenance and the face of a gregarious, and perhaps generous cook. It was not a particularly large rendezvous compared to some of the gatherings I have attended. There were maybe 30 tribes gathered around their heathen metal temples and maybe 100 or so onlookers circling the town square and observing the goings on. Things were looking promising at first as we gazed upon upon this gentleman saucing down his fare as a few obviously well fed admirers looked on with salivating gazes. Our hungered admiring smiles were ignored however. Perhaps it is was just too early and carnivorous provisions were not quite done yet. Ever the optimists, we continued our trek in the search for victuals to relieve our rapidly increasing yearnings.
Our hopes rose when we spotted this obviously integrated tribe, their encampment a hybrid polyglot of predominately pagan beliefs intermixed with the Green Temple of truth and enlightenment. However, the chemical tainted fuel proved prophetic and belied our hope for mortal aliment, leaving us to forage on through the barbarous convention.
Our hopes were once again lifted when we spotted this well decorated iron shrine dedicated to that one element so necessary in the proper conversion of raw animal muscle tissue to that delectable epicurean delight we had come so far to partake. The proprietor was of a friendly nature and more than willing to give us a tour of his mobile smoking device, however our internal and unspoken pleadings for just a tiny, miniscule taste of his endeavors went unanswered.
As we continued to tour the small smoking expanse, the revelation dawned on us with a cruel, yet crystal clear understanding. The participants in this "World of Texas BBQ Cookoff" were under strict command from some unseen and thoroughly demented master manipulator not to give out any samples to the voraciously famished supplicants. Nada, nein, none, nyet, not a taste, nary a pinch, a tiny morsel not, nothing for you, sorry, we are only following orders, no can do, it won't be happening for you, something tasty will not be coming your way, sorry Charlie, never ever, no bite for you grasshopper, naught for you either, you want a taste of my what?, can't do it, won't do it, no, no, no .... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, the humanity, the humanity!!!
Cast adrift, starving, and becoming delirious; we are confronted at a crossroad by a devilish, single vendor and purveyor of the very antithesis of what we were searching for: a chopped beef sandwich for $3.00!!! Oh chopped beef, that amalgam of mystery meat and sickly sweet sauce, the bane of my childhood school cafeteria experience. As a starving student in the early 1970's they were available "6 for a dollar", and even then I would pass them up for a brace of fine pork rib or a real sliced beef sandwich. Here we were in a cornucopia of heavenly meaty delights; pork ribs, beef ribs, brisket, pork butt, chicken, prime rib, wild game of every description, turkey, ham, quail, venison, and who knows what else, and all they can offer us is chopped beef !!!
Sometimes no matter what the consequences, be it famine and starvation, a man must make a choice and stand up against the forces that try to drag us down to the most base level and rob us of our very dignity.
No I say! I ain 't buying it, it won't be happening for youuuuu... You'll get my $3 for a chopped beef sandwich when you pry it out of my cold, dead, emaciated fingers!!!
Then, at the darkest hour, when all seemed lost, and the last bit of caffinated strength sputtered through our protein starved veins, we made our way to far reach's of this BBQ cookoff farce. There they sat... gentle blue smoke wafting in the air, the sweet smell of the sacred lump mixed with a touch of woody essence, their reassuring green friendly shapes, like affectionate aliens in a hostile land - four beautiful, brand new Eggs. Salvation and salivatory redemption was at hand! We had been delivered from the Philistines to the promised land. The first Texas Eggfest was revealed!
Here stands your long suffering reporter within the Green Egg perimeter. I had just recently been revived from a near starvation state by the kindly Lawn Ranger and the first settler in this hunger heavy land, Grillmeister. A simple, yet decidedly hearty sausage on a common white bun helped revamp my flagging energy and prepared me for the multitude of questions put forth by the many pilgrims who gazed upon these strange, yet visually delightful green objects that sat among the ugly, ponderous, black metal smokers that dominated the surrounding landscape. None of them had ever seen such a sight and were intrigued by their simple, organic shape, and the delightful treats that resided blissfully inside them. For the devoted priests of the Egg cult did not heed the cruel manifesto spewed forth by forces unknown, who had declared that no samples were to be handed out to the masses. Their delicious manna lovingly caressed by the sweet smoke within the Eggs were handed out without prejudice to all whom asked. I saw with amazed wonder as pizza, sausage, ABT's, thin slices of a perfect pink strip, mouth watering brisket, and succulent pork ribs disappeared into the mouths of the bewildered crowd.
"What the heck are these things? Is that pottery? Man, those sure are some mighty thick walls! How hot can these things get? No s**t? How long will they burn before you add fuel? No way, dude! How much do they cost? Ouch!", were but a few of the comment I heard. Some of them walked away shaking their head, but the seeds had been planted and I am sure a few would sprout up in this heathen land of metal worshipers.
Note the Egg in the foreground and it's cool electronically controlled "BBQ Guru" intake system. A very inspired idea for the truly lazy cook, however it is not for me. I feel that the Egg makes BBQ'n almost too easy already. A man needs to fiddle with the fire a little bit to make himself feel needed and useful. Of course if someone would like to send me one for further testing I would make myself available for a more thorough review.
In this Ravnhaus exclusive expose you see Lawn Ranger paying tribute to Grillmeister with one of his famous handcrafted "Grill Lifters". The barter system is used among this cult to secure various favors among it's members. This could be an attempt to secure space on the special "BBQ Guru" Egg grill, an exchange for a bag of hot dog buns, or perhaps he is a closet Texas Longhorn fan and he wished to sit in one of sacred orange chairs.
In a frenzy of food preparation activity Spring Chicken is busy at work preparing ABT's (Atomic Buffalo Turds) to feed the hungry hordes that are milling about the encampment. Molly Shark is giving him words of encouragement while Lawn Ranger keeps an eye out for the "No Food Sample Police". The Grillmeister is licking his lips in anticipation of another delectable treat. Mrs Chicken prepares one of the sausages on a bun that saved this reporter from eminent demise earlier in the day. Although this day had dubious beginnings the adventure was making a change for the better thanks to this group of fine folks.
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