The Real Cost of Barbecue in 2026: Brisket Prices, Business Survival, and Culture Shifts
Protect the craft, and respect the numbers.
Somewhere between “National Chicago Massacre Day” and “National Almond Day,” the whole point of this show shows up in plain sight. We start laughing, we start arguing, we start pulling random trivia out of thin air, and then, if you stay long enough, you realize we are really talking about survival. Not just survival for pitmasters, but survival for the entire barbecue ecosystem. The cooks, the customers, the farmers, the small restaurants, the pop-ups, the backyard folks who want to turn a hobby into a hustle.
That’s the thing about barbecue. It’s never only about the food. It’s about access, education, economics, and culture. It’s about who gets to enter the game, who gets to stay, and what gets lost when the cost of doing things the right way starts pushing people to shortcuts.
The door is opening, but are we teaching people how to walk through it?
We talked about California approving microenterprises, specifically the “micro-enterprise home kitchen operations” framework, MEHKO. The idea is simple: lower the barrier to entry so regular people can start a food business without needing a full-blown commercial buildout on day one.
But the details tell the real story. Sales are capped between $50K and $100K per year, and there are limits like 30 meals per day or 90 meals per week.
That doesn’t sound like “I’m building the next legacy restaurant.” That sounds like “I’m trying to keep my head above water,” or “I’m trying to prove the concept,” or “I’m trying to turn talent into income without gambling my entire life on a lease.”
And I like that shift, because the truth is people have been doing it anyway for years. The law is catching up to reality.
But here’s where my brain always goes: if we are going to open the gates wider, we cannot pretend this is just about letting folks cook. We also have to talk about standards, safety, and the business side of the business. There’s a line in the episode that hit me hard because it’s so real: “Everyone’s a chef, or a home, or a private caterer, but none of y’all have a ServSafe.”
That part is not “gatekeeping.” That part is protecting people. We also talked about insurance, because in the real world, things happen fast, and you do not get to rewind the tape. “You have to have insurance. Food liability insurance.”
I told a story from experience, smelling gas, warning someone, turning the corner, and then “Boom… mushroom cloud.” That is not a metaphor. That is why professionalism matters, even when the operation feels small.
The brisket problem is not coming. It’s here.
Then we got into the news out of Texas. Texas Agricultural Commissioner Sid Miller put out an urgent call to action to “save barbecue,” and the headline underneath that call is what should make everybody sit up straighter: “US cattle herd is down to its lowest level in 75 years,” beef prices are skyrocketing, brisket is expensive, restaurants are getting squeezed, and customers are pulling back.
When politicians start talking like that, you know the pressure is real. But I also asked the question that a lot of folks are thinking: how exactly are you planning to save barbecue?
That’s where the conversation shifts from “news” to “accountability.” Because yes, there are real factors that hit the supply chain. But I said what I said, and I meant it: “This is every pit master in Texas’s fault.”
Not because pitmasters caused the cattle herd to shrink, but because too many of us treated brisket like it was supposed to stay cheap forever. I put it blunt: if you run a business and brisket is on your menu, “you never priced it what it was worth to begin with.”
People priced it for comfort, not longevity. And now, when the costs spike, everybody is shocked that the math doesn’t work anymore.
We even talked specifics. Bryan broke down how brisket used to be in that $2.49 to $3 per pound range around 2012–2014, and now they are paying about $5.50 per pound for the higher quality product they’re using. That kind of jump forces hard decisions, like cooking brisket less often and making people build their plate in a different way.
And if Texas is nervous, I’m nervous.
When restaurants start crowdfunding rent, that’s a signal
This is the part that stops being theoretical. We talked about restaurant closings, even corporate spots struggling, and then we hit a story that feels like a flare shot into the sky: a barbecue restaurant in Houston, Famous BarBQue, posting a GoFundMe because they needed to pay $72,000 by the weekend or vacate.
I said what a lot of owners do not want to hear, but need to: “A business shouldn’t run out of money overnight.”
That’s not lack of compassion. That’s reality. If you are tracking your P&L, if you are watching your statements, you should know what’s coming. And that’s why I keep repeating the same line, because it’s the difference between staying open and becoming a cautionary tale: “We’re in the food business. Focus on the business part ’cause food got you there, but focus on the business part.”
The culture wars are loud, but they’re not the main issue
Then, right when it gets heavy, barbecue does what barbecue always does. We start arguing about what “counts.”
“Pellet grills are not real barbecue.”
I’m not going to pretend I was gentle about it. “No, sir. You can put gerbil pellets into a hopper and walk away.” And when the “it gets more people cooking” argument came up, we compared it to, “vape is a gateway drug to cocaine.”
But even in the jokes, the point is serious. The real issue is not whether a pellet grill exists. The issue is honesty. If you want convenience, cool. Just do not act like you did the same work. Same thing with brisket. “If you use sauce on your brisket, you failed,” came up as a hot take, and we landed on a better truth: sauce should be optional, on the side, because the craft should stand on its own.
Then we even talked about pairing brisket with something like Alabama white sauce and why acidity and heat can make sense when it’s done thoughtfully. And yes, we had to address the internet commandments too: “You must wrap at 165.” That’s brisket lore, not law. Barbecue is not a flowchart. It’s decisions.
So what do we do now?
If brisket keeps climbing, we adapt. We talked about getting creative, using brisket differently, stretching it, building menus that have smoked elements without being trapped by one expensive cut.
We talked about reducing waste and even joked our way into a real strategy, asking what else can be made from remnants when costs tighten.
But underneath all of that is the bigger lesson: the future of barbecue is going to belong to the people who can do two things at once.
Protect the craft, and respect the numbers.
Because the fire does not care about your opinions, and the spreadsheet does not care about your feelings. If we want this culture to still be here in five years, we have to be honest about what it costs, what it takes, and what we are willing to change so the next generation can still step up to the pit and learn it the right way.
I want to hear where you land on this.
Is brisket becoming a luxury item, and if so, how should barbecue evolve without losing its soul?