Slow-Cooked Beef Brisket with Homemade BBQ Sauce

Every Friday, at around 3:30pm, our house fills up.

Not gradually. All at once. Ten teenagers, straight from school, arriving in the particular way that teenagers arrive: bags dropped in the hallway, shoes somewhere that is not the shoe rack, and a volume level that suggests the week has been long and there is much to process.

They sort themselves, as they always do. Our loungeroom contains a drum kit, a ukulele, a guitar, and an electric piano. This is excellent for those who wish to play them. It is more excellent for everyone else if the skills are already well established, which, on any given Friday, is a variable proposition.

The backyard has a trampoline, which at this stage of proceedings functions less as a trampoline and more as a horizontal gathering point with a blanket. It is occupied by the junior girl recipe testers, who at a certain age have apparently lost the ability to communicate without shrieking. Our neighbours are patient. We are grateful.

The family room contains a television which, when the humidity cooperates, connects to the internet and plays whatever is currently beloved. Those watching it are generally to be found seated as close to it as physically possible, the surround sound situation being what it is. (See previous notes on the drum kit.)

All of these juniors are dear to us. And we are genuinely chuffed that they choose to spend Friday nights at our dinner table.

Some will eat anything that is not nailed down. Others have views. All of them are polite and give most things a genuine attempt, which is all you can really ask.

Some years ago I worked out that most of the stress of feeding a crowd is not the cooking. It's the timing. The getting-everything-onto-the-table-hot-at-the-same-moment problem, which popular cooking shows have somehow made sound achievable when it is, in fact, a logistical puzzle I have limited patience for by six o'clock on a Friday.

So I stopped trying to solve it.

I would rather spend an afternoon hunting for yabbies (the full story from the last expedition, which did not end well, is here) than try to get a meal onto a plate looking beautiful at six o'clock on a Friday.

And so, nothing I cook for Friday nights will be ruined by another twenty minutes in the oven. Thinking about it, this is true for anything I cook for anyone who comes over for dinner. Nothing needs to be plated. Things go in the middle of the table, people take what they want, and I turn a blind eye to the vegetable situation with the practiced ease of someone who really should have learned to get a grip by now.

This recipe is the one that started this whole approach for me. It needs to go on in the morning (ten minutes, then you leave it alone & go to work). By Friday dinner it is falling apart in the best possible way. It scales up or down without drama. And it will sit happily in a low oven for another hour if the junior recipe testers are taking longer than expected to conclude their feelings about the week.

The BBQ sauce is not optional. I say this as someone who despises the bottled version with some feeling.

Slow-Cooked Beef Brisket with Homemade BBQ Sauce

Serves: 10, with leftovers (depending on appetite)

Active time: 20 minutes | Cook time: 8 hours

The Brisket

2.5–3kg beef brisket

Rub

• 2 tbsp brown sugar
• 2 tsp onion powder
• 2 tsp minced garlic (or garlic powder)
• 1 tsp cumin
• 1.5 tsp salt (shocking, I know - trust me on this)
• Black pepper, to taste
• 2 tbsp olive oil

Cooking liquor

• 1 tsp minced garlic
• 125ml apple cider vinegar
• 1 cup tomato sauce (ketchup)
• ½ cup dark brown sugar
• 2 tsp onion powder
• 2 tsp mustard powder (or whatever mustard you have on hand)
• 2 tbsp Worcestershire sauce (use a GF alternative if needed for your guests)

Method

Preheat your oven to 90°C.

Place the brisket in an appropriately sized roasting tin. Mix together the rub ingredients and pour over the meat, then rub it in all over.

Whisk together the cooking liquor ingredients and pour around (not over) the meat.

Wet a large sheet of greaseproof paper, scrunch it up in your hands, then open it back out and lay it directly over the meat and sauce. This stops the foil from sticking to the meat. Cover the dish tightly with foil and place it in the oven.

Cook for around 8 hours, turning the oven up to 150°C for the final hour. In the meantime, go to work, run errands, or do anything else entirely. If you end up out of the house for longer than 8 hours, don't worry: at 90°C the meat will hold perfectly.

Once cooked, slice or shred the brisket according to preference. Serve with a little of the cooking liquor spooned over and the BBQ sauce on the side.

The BBQ Sauce

Adapted from Gary Mehigan's braised pork ribs, MasterChef Australia.

• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 cup dark brown sugar
• 250ml malt vinegar
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 tsp chilli powder (leave it out if chilli isn't your thing)
• 2 tbsp tomato sauce
• 2 tbsp Dijon mustard
• 125ml bourbon (if you can get it, use it — it really makes the sauce)
• 1 onion, chopped
• 1 tomato, chopped
• 2 bay leaves
• 1 tsp cumin
• 1 tsp paprika
• 1 tbsp jalapeño chilli, chopped (the pickled jarred or tinned ones are excellent)
• 2 strips of orange rind
• 1 tsp salt

I know it's a long list of ingredients, but once you've gotten over that it takes very little effort. Put everything into a saucepan and bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally until the sugar has dissolved. Simmer for 15–20 minutes until the sauce reaches your preferred consistency, stirring now and then. Remove from the heat and serve alongside the brisket.

The sauce can be made ahead of time and served cold. Leftovers keep well in a jar or other airtight container in the fridge.

Notes

• This recipe scales up and down without any drama. Allow roughly 250-300g of raw brisket per person.
• Leftovers (if there are any) are excellent the next day.