Inside my Longest Day at Family Reunion: Fire, Smoke, and Community [Day 2]
"...his is what commitment looks like. Not when it’s easy. But when you’re wet, tired, covered in smoke, and still choosing to keep the fire going."
There’s always one day at any event that pushes you harder than the rest. For me, at this year’s Family Reunion in Middleburg, Virginia, that day was Day Two. Cooking day.
The morning started early, as they always do. I checked to see if the rest of the brisket had arrived, knowing that today would be the longest haul of the weekend. The answer? Not yet. They wouldn’t get there until noon. But that didn’t mean I could sleep in or sip coffee slowly. There’s more to barbecue than just lighting a flame. The smokers had to be brought in. Wood stacked, prepped, sorted. Burn barrels assembled. Timing adjusted. Everything dialed in before meat even touches heat.
Today’s tool of choice: Blue By You, Pops’ rig, a 1000-gallon, 30-foot custom build from Mike and Matt over at M&M BBQ Co. It’s a beast. Beautifully tuned, but massive. This was my first time cooking on her, so I wanted to start early, get a feel for where she runs hot, where she sleeps cool. But Mother Nature, as always, had other ideas. Dark clouds rolled in fast, and the rain came down louder than the country music from the main tent. I was soaked before I even got the fire lit. But rain’s never stopped me. It just makes the fire more interesting.
This is where muscle memory and prep matter. I always toss a few pieces of dry wood in the firebox ahead of time, insurance. While the rain poured down and my clothes got heavy, I grabbed dry kindling from the box. No lighter fluid. No shortcuts. Just cardboard, a lighter, and patience. Eventually, that first curl of faint smoke slipped from the stack. The fire was alive.
Just as the flames settled in, the rest of the brisket finally arrived. I dried off, changed clothes, and got straight to it in the kitchen. Hundreds of pounds needed trimming and seasoning, no delays. Luckily, Erica showed up like she always does: calm, reliable, sharp. She even brought food, which at that point felt like divine intervention. While I ate, she trimmed, and we caught up with Slim, Chef Nyesha Arrington’s sous. The kind of kitchen chatter that makes hard work feel a little lighter.
Once the briskets were prepped, it was time to load the rig. Now let me tell you, loading Blue By You isn’t like tossing burgers on a backyard grill. Every chamber behaves differently. Door three runs 100 degrees hotter than the others, so placement matters. It’s a dance. Meat Tetris, if you will. Brisket by brisket, chamber by chamber, fire stoked, doors sealed. And just as the smoke started rolling steadily, it was time to step away, briefly, for the chefs' kickoff gathering, held in a tucked-away cabin on the property. A rare moment where all the chefs and pitmasters could be in one room without tongs in hand or fires to check. These gatherings don’t happen often during the event. We’re usually spread thin across demos, tastings, and breakouts, all happening at the same time. So when we do share space, it’s meaningful.
There were hugs, drinks, and plenty of laughs. Then Kwame stepped in to offer a toast, thanking all of us for showing up, for committing to the craft, for being part of something that’s bigger than the sum of our recipes. It meant a lot. That kind of recognition doesn’t always make the highlight reel, but it lands heavy in the heart. As tempting as it was to stay, I had fires to feed and briskets to turn. While others prepped for sleep, I prepped for smoke. The pit doesn’t wait. Neither does the clock. And while the property began to settle into a nighttime hush, I stepped back into rhythm with the flame.
Out there in the dark, I’m rarely alone. Sometimes it’s Sam and Chris tending to the two whole hogs, each weighing in at 230 pounds. Other times, it’s the deer, wandering up, curious about the scent curling through the air. That quiet company keeps me grounded. Reminds me that even when no one’s watching, the work still matters.
Because of this, this is what commitment looks like. Not when it’s easy. But when you’re wet, tired, covered in smoke, and still choosing to keep the fire going.