It was a rodeo weekend around here. And, while it may not have been my first rodeo, it was my first rodeo cook-off. Which doesn’t sound that significant because what’s a rodeo cook-off? A few old men grilling up some burgers? Maybe they’ve got some tents with homemade poster boards hung from them, saying “vote for me!”
That’s sort of what I thought the cook-off was every time someone told me, “I can’t do anything on Saturday because I’m going to cook-off all day.” The “all day” part was always a mystery because our family usually eats dinner in about four minutes. Surely, you couldn’t just stand around and eat barbecue for hours, right?
And, how exactly, could the rodeo folks operate a cooking competition? I imagined, maybe, Paula Deen or someone showing up at like six o’clock, tasting everyone’s smoked ribs, and handing out a blue ribbon.
Y’all.
The rodeo cook-off is crazy. Insane, I tell you. I had no idea that most of Texas goes to the Reliant center for four days and gets drunk. M and I were totally sure, but I think they all go and drive around Houston highways after that. This year, 265,000 barbecue lovers came to the fairgrounds around the Reliant Center. Over the next few weeks, 2 million more music lovers will come to the actual rodeo. Those fans want to hear George Strait.
The cook-off crowd wanted to pickle their livers.
And lets be clear (and this if from a regular attendee of Mardi Gras) the cook-off crowd made the folks at Mardi Gras look like teetotalers. Here’s the difference: at the cook-off, drinks (including ubiquitous jello shots) are free.
M’s company helped sponsor a tent. This means we ate as much of the best barbecue I’ve ever tasted, M drank a couple beers, while all 300 people in the tent offered me jello shots. Even though I don’t drink, I had to keep a jello shot open in front of me so people would stop insisting I take one. And this wasn’t even the Jagermeister tent.
The real highlight was the live entertainment in our tent: the Twin Keys, who are identical twins playing their dueling pianos. Nothing makes a group of middle-aged Texans feel young and fun than copious jello shots and a giant sing-a-long of Texas fight songs and ballads. After a long week of big decisions and lots of activities, M and I needed to just sit on bar stools and sing, “Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie” with our new best friends.
We left early because we are who we are, but not before we met the Twin Keys, who were so sweet and even feigned interest when I told them, “We have twins at home too!” Luckily I didn’t launch into explaining Sam and Elisabeth also do their own piano show every night–but with lots less drunk people stuffed with barbecue.
