Eat Competition Barbecue Without Competition

This was not love at first sight.

It looks like what it is, which is one pound of vacuum-packed precooked beef barbecue brisket. And, aesthetics aside, that sounds like a bad idea.

A Lobel's rep thought otherwise, as he might. Lobel's is a venerable New York butcher shop on Madison Avenue, the kind of place foodcentrics approach with an enthusiasm other tourists bring to the Metropolitan Museum. Dry-aged Wagyu beef, Kurobuta pork, all manner of organic free-range poultry... and now, smoked barbecue brisket. The rep wanted me to try a sample. I warned him that I was from Texas. That my parents are competitive barbecuers. He said he'd take his chances.

It arrived unfrozen, surrounded by Therma-Frost ice packs. And while it was cooked, ready to eat means wrapping the brisket loosely in foil and putting it in the oven (grill, smoker) until its internal temperature is 165F.

And? May the mesquite gods strike me down: If that isn't competition-quality, it's awfully close.

A few caveats: For anyone who might sneer at the notion of competitive barbecue, this may instill some respect. A pound of Lobel's brisket serves only two or three people; high-quality beef is heavily marbled, but there's a lot of fat that has to be trimmed away (cook a fat-free brisket and you may as well slap Hunt's BBQ sauce on a slab of tofu). It comes with a very simple "mopping" sauce recipe, the same one they say is used while smoking the beef. If you have a sauce you like, skip this; raw, it's a little harsh. Finally, order for Labor Day and they include a sample of Wagyu braised short ribs.

Lobel's mail order. Five pounds of barbecued prime beef brisket and a package of braised Wagyu short ribs, $140 plus shipping.