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Desert Oak Barbecue propri-
etor Richard Funk (bottom)
smokes beef ribs over oak
wood, which he “imports” to
El Paso from central Texas.ON THE ROAD
Text by Bryan Roof;
photos by Steve KliseI
ARRIVE AT DESERT Oak Barbe-
cue in El Paso, Texas, promptly at
6:00 a.m., which is when owner
Richard Funk says the beef ribs will be
ready to come off the cooker. I park around
back, a few feet behind a trailer that houses the
wood and supplies needed for the custom-built
1,000-gallon cooker a few feet away.
Richard’s wife, Suzanne, introduced him to
a charcoal grill while the couple was living in
Michigan. It was love at first fire. Without a
proper mentor, Richard tinkered with recipes
and techniques almost nonstop. “It was torture
for my family at first because I had no idea
what I was doing,” he says. “The first brisket
I ever made is still by far the worst brisket I’ve
ever eaten.”
In 2012, after they had returned to El
Paso, Suzanne urged Richard to embrace his
passion and try to make a living from it. He
thought the idea was ridiculous. “I didn’t know
if people in El Paso would like [my barbecue],
other than our friends and family who were
just being nice.” He started with a food truck,
a relatively low-risk venture. It took off.
Richard pulls the beef ribs off the cooker
with gloved hands and sprays each rack with a
solution of red wine vinegar and water to keep
them moist once they’re wrapped in butcher
paper. The ribs rest at room temperature for
45 minutes and then go into a warming box to
await customers. The ideal serving tempera-
ture, Richard says, is comfortable enough fora pit master to touch with bare hands but still
hot and juicy, about 140 degrees.
The dining room is a combination of raw
wood planks and corrugated tin. Hanging
every few feet are snapshots of the Funk family
standing in front of the great barbecue land-
marks of central Texas. Other families might
post pictures of Disney vacations, but the
Funks plan their travels around barbecue.
I order a little of everything: two links of
sausage made by Richard and his son, Mar-
celo; half a pound of brisket; a few thin slices
of turkey; a scoop of pulled pork; three pork
ribs; and a giant beef rib. I ignore the bottle
of sauce on the table and dig right in. I switch
between the politeness of a fork and knife and
the appropriateness of fingers and napkins.
Richard refers to his barbecue as “central
Texas–style,” which is typically cooked with
oak. But oak isn’t native to El Paso, so he has
it shipped in, which tightens his margins. The
beef ribs, sold only on Saturdays, also shrink
those margins because of their wholesale cost
and the labor involved in cooking them.
“[Beef ribs] are hard to love,” Richard says.
“But I love cutting them. Take out that first
rack, carve into it, slap it on the scale, and
everyone’s eyes just pop out of their heads.
It’s awesome. And they pop out even further
once they see the price at the register. I just
keep my head down and keep going.” For
more photos of our trip to El Paso, visit
CooksCountry.com/oakbarbecue19.