Post oak smoke, coarse black pepper and no shortcuts. Three sauces and two rubs, cooked 40 gallons at a time and bottled by hand.


Thin, tangy, peppery. The one we put on the table first.

Dark, sticky and sweet. Built for ribs and a glaze that cracks.

Hill Country peaches, roasted habanero, a slow-building burn.

16-mesh pepper, kosher salt, and a quiet backbone of garlic.

Brown sugar, paprika and toasted pecan for a mahogany bark.

All three sauces and the Brisket Rub, packed and ready to give.

Soft heather charcoal tee with our creek-crossing print.

Rust twill front, cream mesh back, embroidered creek patch.

Heavy waxed canvas, leather straps, built for a 14-hour cook.

Delivered by email instantly. Never expires.

Everything we make for the pit, in one kraft box. The one we send to new neighbors and to the father-in-law who already owns every gadget.
Ships gift-ready. Add a note at checkout and we'll hand-write the card.
A tablespoon of rub per pound, 250°F over post oak, wrap at 165°F. Original goes on the table, not the meat.
Rub heavy, cook 5 hours, then brush on Mesquite Molasses for the last 20 minutes so it tacks up.
Skin-on thighs at 300°F until 175°F inside. Toss in warm Hot Peach and give them two minutes over direct heat.
Spring rain flooded the crossing at the bottom of our road and kept us home for a day with a smoker, a brisket and nothing to do but wait. That batch of sauce got passed around the whole road. By fall we were filling bottles in a rented church kitchen on Tuesday nights.
We still cook the same way. When the creek's up we're slow to ship. When it's down, we're cooking.

One email a month: a recipe, a new batch, no spam. 10% off your first order.