How Bobi Got
to the Pit

The Runt

Bobi was born on a hog farm outside Fort Dodge, the littlest of eleven. He was too small to push his way to the front at feeding time, so he hung back by the farmhouse.

That's where the farmer's dad kept an old smoker going every Saturday.

Bobi didn't get much to eat those first months. But he sure got a good nose for smoke.

The First Job

By the time he was big enough to be useful, Bobi had one chore: watch the fire.

He learned that thin blue smoke means things are going right, and thick white smoke means trouble. He learned you can't hurry a brisket, no matter who's standing there hungry.

Nobody taught him. He just sat there, Saturday after Saturday, and paid attention.

The Bad Years

It didn't all go smooth.

His first brisket came out like a boot heel. He ate the whole thing himself so nobody would find out.

Then came the spring the river came up. It took the smoker, the shed and most of the woodpile. Bobi spent that whole summer hauling downed oak and cutting it up to dry.

Then there was the county fair.

At the cook-off, the judges took one look at a hog in an apron and laughed. He came in dead last.

He came back the next year and took second.

The year after that, nobody laughed.

Head Pitmaster

These days Bobi runs the pit.

He's up before four to light the fire. He won't touch anything that comes out of a freezer bag. And when it's gone, it's gone.

He picked up the spatula for good the day he figured out the pitmaster's job isn't just watching the smoke.

It's feeding people.

A Rat With a Logbook

riversiderat.com

One fall evening a little camper pulled into the campground down along the Des Moines River.

Out climbed a rat with a logbook under his arm, following his nose. That was the Riverside Rat. He writes down every campground, every river and every good spot he finds.

He smelled Bobi's smoke from half a mile off.

They sat up past midnight, one telling camping stories and one handing out burnt ends.

Before he pulled out the next morning, the Rat said, "You ought to keep a logbook too. Every barbecue place in Iowa worth the drive."

So Bobi did. That's the Iowa BBQ Directory.

Bobi finds the smoke, and the Rat still stops by whenever the camper's pointed this way.