“Long before my indoctrination into barbecue, I ate brisket. So did every other Jewish kid in the neighborhood. Brisket was the ultimate holiday dish, and nobody made it better than my aunt, Annette Farber. Working in a kitchen that would be deemed hopelessly primitive today, Aunt Annette grated mountains of potatoes on a hand grater to produce latkes that defied physics. (They were simultaneously featherlight and rib-stickingly leaden.) She hand-cranked a meat grinder to turn out gefilte fish I still dream about. But the star of her repertory was brisket—braised for hours with onions and carrots and sweet red kosher wine (was there any other kind?). Lavished with apricots, prunes, and other dried fruits, it was the sort of sweet-salty, meaty-fruity mash-up typical of so much Ashkenazi cuisine. Aunt Annette served it at Rosh Hashanah (the dried fruits presaged a sweet New Year). She served it at Hanukkah and Passover, too. I imagine she serves it still to hungry multitudes in heaven. These days, my family is more likely to eat our brisket slow-smoked like they do in Texas, but at least once a year we dust off Aunt Annette’s recipe for a braised brisket that transcends wood smoke.” Steven Raichlen
Excerpted from The Brisket Chronicles by Steven Raichlen, photographs by Matthew Benson. Workman Publishing © 2019.