Battle of the Briskets

The Lipsman clan loves to cook. Mix this with a penchant for friendly competition and it’s no surprise that over the years, a simple family dish has become almost unrecognizable from its original form.

What’s in a Brisket?

Brisket, an Ashkenazi Jewish dish, is fairly straightforward. We have it at important holidays like Passover and Hanukkah. It’s made by taking the flat of a beef brisket, throwing some salt and pepper on it, and cooking it in the oven, low and slow. Easy, right? If you’re asking a Lipsman, it's too easy.

The Lipsman Brisket Origin Story

My grandmother, Ann, making gefilte fish

The Lipsman Brisket began with my grandmother, Ann. Born in Poland, she brought her arsenal of Ashkenazi recipes with her to America. Ann’s recipe was simple: salt and pepper the brisket, throw in some root vegetables, like carrots and onions. Then add some chicken stock (this came from the matzo ball soup that Ann always made at the same time). Lastly, put it in the oven for about six hours at a low cooking temperature. Voila, the slightly grey but tasty brisket that I remember growing up.

Next Gen

My cousin, Francine, wasn't content with this. More like my aunt, she’s my dad’s first cousin. Francine patiently waited years for my grandmother to pass the brisket baton to her. She had ideas.

For instance: What if we could amplify the flavor? What if we could make the sauce thicker? What if it wasn’t grey?

One Passover, my grandmother decided she was too tired to make the Seder brisket. Francine seized her shot at the family recipe.

The Passover brisket that year had an appealingly rich, red hue, a tangy flavor, and a thick, savory sauce that dripped onto the brisket and stayed there. Francine had added a myriad of new things. Onion soup, tomatoes, chili sauce, a bottle of red wine, caramelized onions, and an unexpected ingredient: ketchup.

Her brisket became the centerpiece of holiday dinners. That is, until a few years later when her own husband, Michael, decided he could one-up his wife’s recipe.

Up in Smoke

Michael changed the game. After discovering the world of smoking, he’d been smoking every piece of meat in sight. This included Francine’s brisket, which promptly became his. That smoked brisket might have tested their marriage, but in the end they both made their versions for their Hanukkah party. Don’t ask which is more popular, it’s touchy.

Smoke 2.0

My dad, a self-taught cook, didn’t want to be outdone. He’d watched Michael’s success and decided he could “do him one better”. He began accumulating fancy smokers, and prepared to take Michael’s crown. “Michael was getting good results from his simple method, and I really wanted to outshine him,” he explains. “He used to smoke only the flat, so I went out and got a whole packer brisket and smoked the whole thing.”

For reference, a packer brisket is the entire chest of a cow. Because of the sheer scale, and his painstaking smoking method, my dad’s brisket is something to behold. “It might have been overkill,” he admits. “I got a pellet smoker and smoked it for twelve hours.” That’s right. At 5am on Passover morning, you’ll find Walter Lipsman out in the backyard, preparing to smoke a slab of meat the size of a small goat.

Conclusion

We’ve gone from a respectably sized brisket flat cooked in an oven for six hours, to a monstrous packer brisket smoked outdoors, over cedarwood, from sunrise to sunset. My dad’s recipe reigns supreme, until the next Lipsman swoops in. Who knows? It could be me.