It turns out that the answer is more interesting than the question itself. It weaves so much of Mexican culture into our shared experience in Texas, from history and agriculture to popular trends and…’80s cocaine culture? Anyway, we’ll get to that.

At the base level, it’s just good practice to know what you’re drinking and why. It’ll make the experience better overall, and your local barkeep can’t give you what you want until you know what you’re asking for. Speaking of barkeeps, we have one helluva team at Credence, with a man by the name of Westin Galleymore at the helm. As our head of beverage, it’s his job to educate his team, develop new recipes, and be an overall source of watering-hole wisdom. He’s an encyclopedia. It’s ridiculous.

So, when I started toying around with the idea of writing this article, I immediately went to Westin. Considering he’ll talk my ear off about tequila and mezcal anyway, I figured we may as well turn it into something the drinking public can enjoy as well. So, without further ado, here’s a tag-team approach to distilling the difference between two incredible agave spirits. Salúd.

Defining Your Drink

LG: Okay, let’s start with a basic definition of mezcal and tequila. I already know it’s not a one-sentence answer.

Westin Galleymore: If only it were that easy. The term “mezcal” is a broad term used to describe any agave spirit made in Mexico—agave spirit being an alcohol distillate that's made from the fermentation process of an agave plant. So, you could say that all tequila is technically mezcal, but not all mezcal is tequila. The difference really comes down to regulations. For tequila to be tequila, it needs to be made in one of five Mexican states—Jalisco, Michoacan, Guanajuato, Nayarit, or Tamaulipas. Jalisco is, by far, the most prolific producer. Beyond its location, the next big regulation is that it has to be made from one type of agave plant, specifically the blue weber agave.

LG: It’s high on sugar, which is great for alcohol production, and is hardy as hell. The perfect tequila plant.

WG: Exactly. It’s fairly consistent in dry or wet growing conditions, highly disease-proof, sturdy, and dependable. Because of that high, clean sugar content, you're going to end up with a pretty clean spirit, which is what we all associate with that classic, smooth tequila feel.

LG: That’s a simple rundown of tequila. What about mezcal?

WG: As I said earlier, the most basic definition of mezcal is simply “agave spirits from Mexico.” But,  over the past decade or two, we've seen a lot of changes. Mezcal used to be regarded as this harsh, gut-bomb booze that had a worm in it—you know, that buddy who went down to Tijuana, and spent some time down by the border and barely lived to tell about it.

LG: I’ve definitely never been that guy…

WG: Yeah, me neither [laughs]. People think of mezcal having a worm in it. A lot of mezcal back in the day did have insects in it because it was traded from village to village and they didn’t have labels. They would put an insect from whatever region that it was coming from. It could be a cricket. It could be a worm. It could be a scorpion. Now we have fancy labels, so we can easily see where these mezcals are coming from.

Mezcal has definitely grown and matured from that negative connotation. Because of that, there have been a lot of rules and regulations applied to its production, similar to tequila. Mezcal has to be made in one of nine states, with the primary state being Oaxaca. The others are Guerrero, Guanajuato, Michoacán, Zacatecas, San Luís Potosí, Tamaulipas, Durango and Puebla. Now, as opposed to tequila, mezcal can be made with many species of agave. There are about 35 to 37 currently recognized species of agave that are safe for distillation for human consumption.

LG: Not to mention any combination of those agaves.

WG: Sure, we call those ensembles. Some people take all these plants, harvest them, roast them, extract the juice and combine them before distilling. That’s a really, really old-school method. You really need a life-long level of skill because all these different sugar compounds and enzymes and proteins and acids that naturally exist inside these plants can be very finicky during fermentation. The majority of your ensembles are going to be single distillate, single ferments, that they combine post distillation. That's the vast majority because it’s much easier. But, it’s really cool to come across those folks in the middle of nowhere who’ve been doing it the hard way for generations. That's crazy to me. I love seeing that.

LG: Any other differentiators we’re missing?

WG: The only other major difference is that mezcal is generally not aged, whereas añejo and reposado tequilas are. It’s being done to a degree, but that’s not a traditional mezcal.

Libation Background

LG: That brings up the next major topic I wanted to tackle—the cultural perception of mezcal and tequila and how we got here. In your opinion, why has mezcal been a little slower on the uptake than tequila?

WG: There’s been great mezcal distillation for decades now down in Mexico. It just hasn’t been a popular spirit in the United States, which really comes down to drinking trends. Historically, most of our finer spirits in the U.S. have been imported by boat, which meant they spent a lot of time in a barrel. That’s why people started to associate fine spirits with aged whiskeys and aged brandies, these very refined vanilla, allspice, and sweeter flavors. Then, you get into the sixties and seventies and you start having this tiki revolution where people start drinking all this rum.

LG: Then, things got wild.

WG: Oh, things got wild. Towards the tail end of the seventies and eighties, you had a lot of drugs and a lot of partying. The American lifestyle became so much faster—how can I get this drink quicker? Scotch doesn’t taste good with my cocaine, but I can have vodka and I’m not even going to taste it. Between that cultural shift and the introduction of the soda gun in the late eighties and nineties, the American palate shifted towards neutrality over sweeter flavor profiles.

But, the bright side to all of that partying is it gave birth to this great American revolution of the drinker who became very educated. It started in New York with these hotel managers who were taking over historic hotels, diving into old menus, and starting saying, “maybe we should make a Manhattan properly.” Slowly but surely, you have this wave of nostalgia and drinkers who wanted to be educated, so they started venturing out to all these obscure spirits.

LG: See? The ’80s weren’t all bad. We’ve seen it happen in real time, really. People started getting more adventurous. They started venturing out into different flavor profiles, and that’s where they started to get a little bit more accustomed to tequila. It started out with sweeter tequilas but as consumers became more educated, they wanted to try other spirits.

WG: It’s been fun to see the flavor profile change for the American palate on a larger scale. A good comparison is seeing all of the craft breweries that exist across the nation now. If you were drinking an IPA in the nineties, you were kind of weird.

LG: There’s quite a bit of geography involved, too.

WG: Definitely. I think it’s a mix of both. States like Texas, California, Arizona, and New Mexico have a strong cultural integration with Mexico, and they had a better understanding of these two spirits. And now we’re seeing that with mezcal, along with fine-dining states like New York. People are starting to see that mezcal is not just a nastier version of tequila. It’s a completely different spirit. That being said, I think there’s still a portion of people who live in Mexico or who are from Mexico who still have that connotation—that tequila is premium, and mezcal is not.

Taking a Taste

LG: Alright, let’s get to the important stuff. For someone who’s not educated in the ways of mezcal, how would you describe the flavor differences?

WG: For a beginner, they have to understand that a lot of the entry level mezcals—whether they’re in a cocktail or neat—are going to be similar in flavor profiles. Generally, they’ll be very savory, almost smoky, and a lot more earthy than tequila, which is a lot brighter. It’s typically a little bit more citrus driven, with some notes of black pepper and aloe. Now, they also need to understand that mezcal has such a wide breadth of flavor profiles. Each species of agave is a different wormhole of flavor profiles that you might find yourself liking more than your entry-level mezcals. Some of them can be as floral and as delicate as a gin. Some of them can be super spicy and green pepper driven. If they do love these giant smoke bombs, there’s a ton of these savory, beef-jerky party mezcals that are out there. And then there are some that strike a balance between them all. It can be a really, really fun avenue once they allow their minds to open up and realize that mezcal isn't just the smokey cousin of tequila.

LG: A lot of people prefer mezcal with food, too. I think mezcal can be a lot more food-driven than tequila. That being said, a lot of mezcals are typically higher in proof than tequila, so you have to prepare yourself to be drinking a higher alcohol spirit.

WG: I agree, and the same goes for cocktails. Mezcal generally has a more intense flavor profile than tequila, and that comes through in a cocktail. You just kind of have to find your happy medium. Typically, I love making margaritas with mezcal, or a negroni is fantastic. I actually think mezcal works better than gin, but someone’s going to kill me for saying that. If a prickly pear margarita is your jam, try it with mezcal. If you like a passionfruit margarita, or anything that typically has a sweeter flavor, try it with mezcal. On the other hand, if you choose a super dry, skinny margarita with mezcal, you may be in for a shock. I wouldn't recommend a paloma right out of the gate.

LG: How about for the home-buyer? Should they expect to pay more for tequila or mezcal?

WG: I think mezcal is inherently more expensive because it’s a lower yielding product. Oftentimes, those agave species that they’re using take two to four times longer to reach maturity than the blue weber. Also, there are not as many open fields. It is growing, but they’re mainly grown in small family-operated businesses. With that in mind, you might get a better value with a $30 tequila than you would at a $30 mezcal. I’d say a decent price for a good sipping mezcal would be around the $90 range, and that’d be the ultra-premium range for tequila.

Three-Bottle Lightning Round

LG: With that in mind, I wanted to wrap this up with a rapid-fire recommendation from Mr. Gallymore. Drop three bottles of tequila and three bottles of mezcal that you’d recommend for our imbibing readers. Drum roll…

WG: Oh shit [laughs]. Here goes nothin’.

A huge thanks to Westin for dropping some agave knowledge. What started as a drink for me has quickly become so much more, for both tequila and mezcal—and the same is true for Mexican, Mexican-American, and American culture. These spirits aren’t just great to drink; they’re a glimpse into an ancient art and culture that goes back thousands of years. Hopefully, this quick guide will give you enough courage to head out to your go-to tequila bar and ask for something new. Trust me, bartenders love a customer with an open mind, and they’d be just as excited as you to open the door into the world of tequila, mezcal, or wherever your next drink takes you.

As modern hunters, we’re lucky because we get to have our fun and eat it, too. Whether you’re in it for the challenge or to feed the family or for the deer-camp beers, the end result of a successful hunt is the same: some of the healthiest, most delicious meat you’ve ever tasted.

There are plenty of ways to prepare your venison, as we’ll talk about today. But, I think the majority of hunters tend to underthink their preparations a bit, only using the venison for ground meat or steaks. I love both of those preparations, but if you dig a little deeper you’ll find that there are a million great ways to prepare your freezer full of trophy meat. All it takes is knowing the differences between the cuts and using them appropriately.

With that in mind, I’m going to take a cut-by-cut approach to venison, covering the general characteristics, identification, and how to cook it. Don’t let all of this information overwhelm you, either. There’s nothing wrong with sticking to the basics and you can bite off as much as you want, but I’d highly recommend making the most of your deer.

Before You Begin

It’s safe to say that the majority of hunters don’t process and butcher a deer themselves, which is the primary reason why most of the cuts get lumped into ‘grind meat’ and ‘steaks.’ If you’re taking your deer to the processor, my recommendation is asking them to leave all of the backstraps and hind-quarter cuts intact. That’s a great place to start and you’ll have plenty to work with.

That being said, processing your own deer is not as difficult as it may seem, and I think every hunter should try it. By processing your own deer, you’ll be able to maintain the highest quality, as well as learn where each of the different cuts come from. You’ll also be able to tailor the process to the deer. For example, a small shoulder from a small deer is great to keep whole for roasts, while a shoulder from a large buck may be best to piece out for stew meat or sausage.

If you’re interested in taking on the process yourself, start with this episode of MeatEater, where Steve Rinella walks you through the whole shebang.

Tenderloins

Identification:

These cuts are easy to identify because they’re the only pieces you’ll find inside the body cavity of the deer. There are two, ranging from about five to six inches long, tucked alongside the spine toward the back of the deer.

Preparation:

Tenderloins live up to their name, and rarely make it into the freezer. In my opinion, they’re best kept whole and seared on a hot grill to rare or medium rare. Regardless, these little morsels land squarely in the ‘steak’ category.

Backstraps

Identification:

Backstraps can be found on the back (surprise) of the deer, running along each side of the spine from the neck down to the rump.

Preparation:

They’re one of the most versatile cuts of meat you can find on a deer. Most hunters slice them into one- or two-inch steaks or keep them whole to be sliced after cooking. They can also be sliced thinly and stuffed with any number of ingredients, rolled up, trussed, and cooked over hot coals. If you have a surplus of steaks in the freezer already, the backstraps also make some of the best stew meat you’ll ever have—but that may be sacrilege to most hunters. Lastly, you can cut the backstraps vertically through the ribs to make mini tomahawk steaks as well—another benefit of butchering the deer yourself.

Shoulders

Identification:

They’re shoulders. If you can’t find those, I don’t know what to tell you.

Preparation:

The treatment for shoulders varies a bit based on size. For smaller deer, I like to remove the shank and keep the rest whole for making pot roasts or smoking low and slow on the grill. Shoulders get used hard by deer, so you’ll want to give this cut more time to cook, but once you do, the meat is tender and buttery. For large deer, you have two options. First, you can cut all the meat off and use it for ground meat or sausage. Second, you can cut the shank off and then cut it in half at the next joint, separating the shoulder into two manageable pieces for roasting or smoking. Either is a good option.

Neck

Identification:

While there’s not much meat just below the head, there’s quite a bit in the bottom two thirds of the neck. You’ll know it when you see it.

Preparation:

I’d venture to guess that most of the neck meat ends up as coyote food, but with just a few minutes of slicing, you can add some weight to your grind pile.For larger deer, I like to keep the neck meat intact by slicing underneath and around the neck. It makes great roasts when cooked slowly. For most necks, however, I’ll cut the meat off any which way and throw it into the pile for grinding.

Rump

Identification:

The rump is very similar to the neck, a cut that often gets ignored. It can be difficult to distinguish between the backstrap and the hindquarter, but it’s distinct and becomes easier to identify when the former and latter are removed.

Preparation:

I prepare this the same as I would the neck. You can either keep it intact for slow-cooking as a roast or smoked as pulled venison, or you can put it in the grind pile.

Shanks

Identification:

Essentially, the shanks are the “forearm” of the deer, and you’ll find one per leg. Be sure to cut the hoof off, but you already knew that.

Preparation:

Admittedly, there’s not much meat on the shanks compared to the other cuts. However, if you take a meat saw and cut them into three- to four-inch sections, they’ll make one of my favorite venison dishes—osso bucco. When seared and slow roasted, the shanks release the bone marrow and meat to make some of the most tender, rich meat you’ll have. If you want a simpler approach, you can always slow-roast the shanks together and pull the meat off when tender. Lastly, you can always keep them along with other large bones to make venison bone broth.

Ribs/Skirt

Identification:

I’m lumping the entire side of the deer—below the backstraps and between the front and back legs—into this category. You can’t miss it.

Preparation:

I wouldn’t blame anyone for not messing with this section. It’s the most likely to be dirty, bloody, and frankly unusable after field dressing a deer. But, maybe take a few minutes to trim the meat between the ribs, which’ll make a great addition to the grind pile. Or, if the meat is in good shape, you can run your knife under the meat (on top of the ribs), lifting it off in one large sheet. Voila! Skirt steak. It’s great for fajitas or a very German dish called rouladen.

Hindquarters

Now we’re getting into the meat (sorry) of the article. The hindquarters deserve their own section because they’re actually made up of five (or six) different cuts that are worth paying attention to. When butchering, it may seem overwhelming, but just keep in mind that the distinct cuts are, well, distinct. If you just follow your nose and your knife, you’ll start to piece out the hindquarters in no time.

Top Round

Identification:

This cut is found on the inside of the deer’s leg above the aptly named bottom round. It has the least distinct shape of the hindquarter cuts (in my opinion), which helps me to identify it. You could say it’s rectangular-ish, similar to the shape of Ohio or Wisconsin? You’ll figure it out.

Preparation:

Anything. This is a tender cut that can be cooked quickly as a steak, kebabs, stir fry, or whatever you’d like. It can also be slow-roasted, but I’d recommend cooking it fast and rare.

Eye of Round

Identification:

Nestled in between the top and bottom round, the eye of round is a small, lean cut of meat that looks similar to the tenderloins. Easily identifiable.

Preparation:

This cut can vary a bit. On younger deer, I’d lump it in with the top round and bottom round, meaning it’s great for fast cooking as a steak or something similar. On older deer (especially bucks), it can be a little tough, so I’d set it aside for stew or grind meat.

Bottom Round

Identification:

The bottom round is a bit easier to identify. Located below the top round and eye of round on the leg, it has a distinct rectangular shape.

Preparation:

Some may say that the bottom round isn’t tender enough to be used for steaks, but I disagree. It may not be “tenderloin tender,” but it’s still a delicious cut of meat that can be cooked quickly and eaten rare. That being said, I also believe that stew meat doesn’t need to be reserved for bottom-of-the-barrel cuts, and the bottom round is a great option to cook slowly in fat and liquid.

Sirloin

Identification:

Also known as the “football roast,” this cut is easily identifiable because it actually looks like a football.

Preparation:

If you took a cross-section cut of the sirloin, you’d see quite a few lines of connective tissue running through it. Because of this, it’s not great for quick preparations, but it does make for incredible roasts. Cook it low and slow, and all of that connective tissue will dissolve into buttery goodness. It can also be cubed for stew meat, used for grinding, and is my favorite cut for slicing thinly to make jerky.

Sirloin Butt

Identification:

Located on top of the hindquarter, this cut looks very nondescript, but since it’s attached to the sirloin, it shouldn’t be too hard to identify.

Preparation:

This cut is a thin slab of meat, but it is very tender, making it great for fajitas or stir-fry dishes. It’s also fairly small, so I wouldn’t blame you for throwing it into the grind pile.

What if I told you there’s a better way? I have a special place in my heart for leftovers because they represent pure opportunity—a way to repurpose former family meals into whatever the hell you want. The trick is being intentional, and that’s what I want to talk about today. If you’re looking for recipes, I’ve got a whole section dedicated to that. Instead, we’re talking strategy.

As we careen head-on into the holidays, you’ve got your fair share of dinners ahead of you. But, with these steps, maybe that doesn’t have to mean you have a mountain of turkey sandwiches in your future.

Plan for Plenty

It’s easy to find yourself on autopilot when it comes to holiday meals. Part of this is due to our traditions (you can’t not have pumpkin pie) and part of this is due to the fact that you've got a lot of planning to do and you may as well take a shortcut.

But, if you plan accordingly, the this phase is going to be your best friend. I try to make food that complements the food my family likes to eat. Here’s what I mean. How often are you sitting around eating green bean casserole on a Tuesday night? It’s great and all, but there’s not much in the way of repurposing a casserole. Instead, a pile of fresh-picked, roasted green beans with almonds and garlic does present a few options.

That’s just an example. If you want a green bean casserole, have at it. But, think about the types of foods that you actually eat on a day-to-day basis, and maybe try pivoting your holiday meal to complement the inevitable stack of leftovers when the dust clears. This opens the door for some creativity, too. If your family eats a lot of Mexican-inspired dishes, like mine, then maybe add some Mexican flair to your roasted turkey or sides. You never know—you could be inventing a new tradition while you’re at it.

Ingredients, Not Leftovers

Now that you’ve actually had your holiday meal, it’s time to start thinking about what to do with the aftermath. It helps me to shift my thinking a bit. Instead of thinking about dishes, think about the ingredients that make up the dishes—or, think about repurposing instead of simply reheating.

Let me offer up a few examples. Those green beans I mentioned before? They’d be great in a soup, stew, or chicken-pot pie. Or, if you have a mountain of mashed potatoes, you’ve got yourself the perfect topping for a shepherd’s pie that you can have ready in about 30 minutes flat.

It doesn’t have to be limited to simple dishes, either. Cranberry sauce can make the ideal glaze for just about any meat—the sweet flavor complements duck and pork very nicely. Or, use those yams for a dessert filling. I could go on and on, but the point is just because a dish is a dish, doesn’t mean it can’t become another dish. You just have to think outside the green bean casserole.

Stock Up

I’d be lying if I said I had a spotless record when it comes to leftovers. There’s no escaping the fact that more food than we’d like goes to waste every holiday season, but we should give it our best effort to squeeze every bit we can. That’s where stock comes in.

In my opinion, stock is the unsung hero of the kitchen. It’s the foundation for countless dishes, and I think more home cooks should pay close attention to how it’s made. Trust me, it’s not difficult. At its simplest, all you really need to do is simmer a bunch of ingredients for a bunch of time. That’s all there is to it.

You’d be surprised how many of your leftovers can go into the stock pot. There’s the obvious one—turkey—but you can also use any meat dish, a pile of root vegetables and aromatics, or even seafood dishes as well. For meats that are already cooked, just put them in a pot with water and salt and simmer on low heat for 8–24 hours. You can also use a crock pot. For uncooked meats (bones and trimmings that were cut away before cooking, as an example), I like to set the oven to about 425 degrees and roast them for 20–30 minutes, which will add a significant amount of flavor to your stock. You can do the same with vegetables.

There are a million ways to make stock, so I’m not going to put a recipe on it. Experiment with just about any herbs and seasonings you like, it’ll probably turn out great. With a fridge full of fresh stock, the food future is bright in your household.

There’s no denying that there are some dishes that just work well for leftovers, and it’s okay to lean into that. You don’t need to reinvent the meal. I think some of the best dishes are those that involve a crust and filling because it doesn’t involve mingling with other flavors or ingredients. You can essentially put the same dish in a new package. A few options that come to mind are pies, empanadas, pierogies, turnovers, and bierocks (look it up—the Germans got it right on this one).

Once you learn how to make a simple, flaky pie crust, you’ve got a lot of options. Like I said earlier, turkey pot pie is a great way to clean out the fridge, or you could make a more traditional British-style meat pie using this recipe as a foundation. Then, there’s deep-fried empanadas and turnovers, which can go the savory route (roasted veggies, ham and cheese, etc.) or sweet route (sweet potatoes, pie filling, cranberry and cream cheese). Let’s be honest, a green-bean casserole turnover with bacon doesn’t sound half-bad.

Long story short, I try to avoid treating my leftovers as a chore or red-headed stepchild. They were part of a great meal on Thanksgiving, so why can’t they be a great meal tonight? All it takes is a little planning, attention to detail, and creativity—all of which are key ingredients for a winning dinner.

When most Americans think of Mexico, they think of beach resorts. I have nothing against Cancun and Puerto Vallarta, but if we’re being honest, you’re not getting the real Mexico experience when you book an all-inclusive resort for the weekend.

Top to bottom, Mexico is an incredible place. It’s vibrant. It’s delicious. It’s welcoming. It has more world-class tequila than you could drink in a lifetime. In my opinion, it’s a must for anyone who likes to eat and drink life to the fullest and Guadalajara is a great place to start.

Why? It has a little bit of everything. As the seventh largest city in the country, it’s definitely not small, but it’s also not Mexico City. You can enjoy the finest modern restaurants and attractions, while also getting out to the countryside in no time. In this guide, let’s imagine you’re spending 72 hours in one of my favorite places on earth. It’s going to be a great weekend.

Day 1: Getting Your Feet Wet

I don’t know about you, but when I get off of a flight, I’m ready for a beer and comfort food. You’ve got plenty of options right away, including Birrieria Chololo Carretera a Chapala, which is just minutes from the airport. The name may be hard to say, but this staple is a great introduction to Jaliscan cuisine. A “birrieria” is simply a restaurant that serves birria, a generic name for a stewed meat dish, often made with goat. It’s delicious.

Or, if you’d like to get into the heart of the city right off the bat, I’d highly recommend swinging by Theo by Vincent for a more modern take on traditional Jaliscan dishes. It’s a great pit stop on the way to one of the pillars of culture in the region—destilerias.

Any trip to Jalisco needs to include tequila. Sure, it’s a delicious drink, but it’s far more than that for Jaliscans. As the epicenter for quality tequila, it’s an ancient and deeply rooted tradition that dates back for centuries. In other words, what wine is to Bordeaux, tequila is to Jalisco. It’s important. Heading northwest out of the city, you’ll find two great distilleries—Tequila Fortaleza and Tequilere Arette de Jalisco. You could easily plan an entire vacation around touring tequila distilleries, but these two are a great place to start.

After a full day of flying and traveling, head back towards the center of the city for a nightcap at SE7ENTA, which has great cocktails and a full selection of tequilas you can browse—you know, since you’re an expert from your tours.

Day 2: Branch Out, Buy-In

Day two is where the magic happens. You’ve had 24 hours to adjust, brush up on your Spanish a bit, and now it’s time to sink your teeth into everything this incredible city has to offer. For the day, I’m recommending that you head south to Tlaquepaque. This suburb of Guadalajara has a little bit of everything but it’s particularly renowned for its shopping and dining.

And I’m not talking about refrigerator magnets and beach towels. Tlaquepaque’s streets are lined with charming little shops filled with antiques and ephemera that locals have gathered from around the region. It’s more akin to treasure hunting than shopping. Keep an eye out for art, furniture, and knick-knacks from a few decades old to several hundred years old.

Then, take a break and swing by Casa Luna, one of my favorite restaurants in the city. It strikes the perfect balance of being modern and innovative while also celebrating some of the ancient techniques that have shaped Jalisco’s food culture for centuries. Paired with a vibrant, open-air atmosphere, it’s a great place to unwind before you tackle more shopping.

If you haven’t drunk your weight in tequila by this point, this is your chance because Guadalajara’s nightlife is something to behold. Really, there are too many places to list, but I’ll say Farmacia and Vietnam are my two go-to’s in the heart of the city. Both are small and full of character. If you want a little taste of Texas with your Mexican bar, Farmacia’s jukebox is ready for your crew. It’s low, stone ceilings and extensive tequila selection are the perfect vibe for your night out. Then, make your way a few streets over to Vietnam, an oddly named bar that’s short on space, but not on fine tequilas. Don’t forget to sleep at some point.

Day 3: El Gran Final

Day three is a tricky one. The return to normal life looms in the air, which may give off a bittersweet feeling. It should also light a fire under your ass to make the most of Mexico and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you’re feeling the tequila just a bit from last night, so a quick bite and copious amounts of coffee are in order. Recharge, refuel, and then head to Pig’s Pearls for a surprisingly delicious burger. Yep, you read that right. Go grab a burger in Guadalajara—it’s good for the soul, and that hangover you’re nursing.

Now that you’re back among the living, I’d recommend improvising a little bit and following your nose around the historic district of the city. The Catedral de Guadalajara is just one of the many beautiful cathedrals around the city and you’ll find some sort of ancient attraction around every corner—not to mention markets and food carts. This area is a great way to make the day your own, whether it’s shopping, learning, eating, drinking, or all of the above.

Before you leave the historic district, kick off happy hour at Cantina la Fuente, one of the oldest cantinas in the city. It exudes old-world charm—be sure to ask about the story behind the bicycle hanging on the wall, and grab a paloma while you’re at it. Now we’re ready for our last evening in Guadalajara. It’s going to be a doozy.

For dinner plans, I’d probably head over to Xokol and experience one of the most creative iterations of Jaliscan cuisine out there and then mosey on over to the Turbio Wine Bar for a quick break from tequila. Lastly, there’s only one way to end your Jaliscan adventure: mariachi. Other than tequila, mariachi music may be the most important cultural touchpoint in the region. In fact, if you did nothing else than dance the night away to some mariachi tunes I wouldn’t blame you. Head to Casa Bariachi for the real deal. There’s a solid chance you’ll be the only tourist around, which means you’re in the right place. Be sure to throw some pesos to the band and you can have a tableside serenade you’ll never forget—just be sure to set an alarm for that flight in the morning.

I don’t have to tell you that this list is not exhaustive. I’ve been to Guadalajara quite a few times and I still feel like I’m only scratching the surface of what it has to offer, which is an exciting notion. In that spirit, I’d encourage you to use this guide as inspiration more than prescription. Test things out. Go explore. Eat some fried crickets. Jaliscans will be dancing the night away to the sweet sounds of Vincente Fernandez long after the gulf has washed those resorts away. You may as well join them.

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¿Quieres un poco inspiración para su viaje a México? Escuchas Mariachi Mùsica en Spotify.

Anglers love to talk about angling, which makes sense. You’ll notice, however, that the conversation peters out after they finish describing their unbelievably large catch. Onto the next story.

I can’t help but think that we’re missing half of the narrative, maybe even the most important part—what to do with it afterwards. The angling world is overrun with mishandled catches, and  you’ve probably seen the unfortunate result: a soggy, gray piece of meat that tastes similar to how a pair of waders smell after you’ve been trudging around in them all day.

As a chef, I can’t stand idly by and let some of my favorite table fare go mistreated. I believe Eliza Acton put it nicely about 179 years ago in her book, Modern Cookery for Private Families: “Nothing can more effectually destroy the appetite, or disgrace the cook, than fish sent to table imperfectly cleaned.”

I, for one, would love to avoid destruction and disgrace whenever possible, so let’s talk about how to best care for your catch, starting with the boat and ending with a delicious bite.

Step One: Out of the Water

At this point, you’ve already decided that you want to keep a fish. Assuming you’ve legally and responsibly made this decision, more power to you and congrats on catching dinner. But, let’s not celebrate quite yet. Dispatching and storing the fish is, bar none, the step that is fumbled most often on boats, docks, and on banks around the world. We need to get this right.

Here are my three fish-care commandments:

• Thou shalt not put a live fish on ice.
• Thou shalt not put a live fish in a live well for an extended period of time.
• Thou shalt not put a live fish on a stringer for an extended period of time.

On paper, these methods may seem fine, but all of these methods stress out fish for long periods of time as they die a slow death. Not only is this inhumane, it’s also detrimental to the meat. Stress releases lactic acid, cortisol, and adrenaline, which will give the meat an ‘off’ flavor and may affect the texture as well. Even then, a fish will likely die in a live well or on a stringer, and at that point you’re in a race against time to get your (probably already spoiled) meat to the fridge before things get bad.

The good news is that the correct way is oftentimes simpler than the incorrect way.

First things first, decide ahead of time if you’re going to potentially keep fish and then bring a cooler full of ice. When you land your catch, you can either give it a forceful strike on the head with a heavy, blunt object to stun and/or kill it, cut the gills, and put it in the cooler. It may seem messy, but it’s a quick and effective way to humanely kill your catch and ensure it stays fresh. The Japanese have been using a practice called ike jime for centuries, which emphasizes the same basic principles of stunning and bleeding (and they know a thing or two about delicious seafood).

The more quickly you kill the fish, the more humane and less stressed it will be, and removing the blood from the fish will stop the meat from taking on what many people describe as a “fishy” flavor. Personally, I think this is a misnomer for “poorly prepared fish.”

Lastly, get that fish on ice. At this point, you most likely don’t need to do any more cleaning of the fish. If you’re still going to be fishing for a bit, simply let the fish cool off on ice and enjoy your day on the water—it’ll be fine well after your boat runs out of gas. I highly recommend at least gutting the fish as soon as you get back to the dock because a gutted fish will last for up to five days on ice, giving you much more flexibility on multi-day trips or when life gets in the way.

Now it’s time to decide what to do with your catch. There’s no one answer, but I’m going to do my best to make this comprehensive.

The first step is simple. Do you want to eat the fish now or later? If you follow the previous steps, then you have three to five days to get the meat on the table—but sooner is always better. If there’s any chance of it being longer, it’s best to prepare for freezing. You’re still left with the choice of how to freeze the fish. This depends on how you want to cook it and what type of fish you’re freezing, but here are three options:

Keep it whole

This is the simplest method because, well, you don’t have to do anything. That being said, I like to reserve this method for the appropriate type of fish. Some classic fish for serving whole are redfish, red snapper, flounder, and freshwater trout.

Half shell

This term simply refers to keeping the skin on a filet, which is a great way to grill a fish. This works well with fish that have thicker skin, like salmon, steelhead, redfish, snapper, and countless other types of saltwater fish.

Filets

This is the most common type of preparation, where you cut the meat off of the fish and store it as you would most other kinds of meat. What it lacks in pizazz, it makes up for in versatility and efficiency. I’m not going to dive into fileting in this article, but this video from Epicurious has everything you need to know.

For whole fish and fish on the half shell, it’s best to descale a fish before freezing, which you can do using the edge of a spoon or the spine of a knife and scraping against the scales towards the head. For half-shell preparations and filets, keep an eye out for any fat in the meat. Fish fat is generally a brownish-gray color and is easy to spot against light-colored meat. While it doesn’t necessarily have to be removed, any hint of an off flavor will most likely come from the fat, so it just helps to ensure a clean, fresh taste to the meat. I’ve found this to be particularly true when cleaning catfish—cut that fat off.

Step Four: Storage

Or, maybe it’s time to tuck that fish away for another day. When putting fish in the freezer, I like to keep the meat as dry as possible. If you have the time, I like to put the fish in a pan with paper towels to soak up some moisture—you can leave it covered in a fridge for a few hours or even overnight. If you don’t have the time, a quick pat with a paper towel is fine.

My favorite way to store fish is with vacuum sealing. It’s the best way to keep air away from the fish and it stores very nicely in your freezer. If you don’t have a vacuum sealer, here’s a trick—put the fish in an appropriately sized zip lock bag and submerge the bag in a sink or tub full of water with the opening above the surface. Essentially, the pressure from the water will create a vacuum, pushing out the air from the bag. It’s not quite as effective as the real deal, but can be surprisingly effective.

If neither of those methods strike your fancy, you can wrap it as well. Start by wrapping the meat in plastic wrap, then wrap it again with butcher paper. Tape it up, label it, and you’re good to go. I’d recommend eating the fish sooner than later, though, because this method is by far the most prone to freezer damage from air leaking into the wrap. Once frozen, the FDA says you can keep raw fish for up to eight months—but a well-prepared piece of fish meat shouldn’t have to last that long in the freezer.

You may be thinking, “This seems like a lot of work.” Well, it is, but so is planning a trip, driving, tying knots, casting, and nursing that sunburn, so a little extra won’t hurt. It’s also the least we can do for the resource. No matter how you swing it, that dinner on your table comes at a cost, and as anglers, let’s show some respect to the fish by doing whatever we can to ensure the meat stays fresh and delicious for the table. I know anglers love their stories, but catching the fish is just part of it—don’t forget to nail the ending.

I’m a fifth-generation Texan and also the president of Goode Company Restaurants, a business my dad started in 1977 that’s grown to 12 restaurants in Houston, with more to come. That’s taken up a good chunk of my time over the past 25 years or so since I took the helm, but I’ve still been able to make room for my passions—cooking, travel, dive-bar exploration, fishing, and hunting. You know, Texan stuff.

It’s not lost on me that I get to enjoy a lot of privileges. I’ve seen just about every corner of the state, soaked up the atmosphere, knocked a few back, and there’s been a twangy soundtrack behind just about all of it. And, as Texas grows larger every day, with new folks from around the world earning their honorary Texan status, it feels like a good time to set the record straight.

Ultimately, I want to help build a full picture of what Texas truly entails, and what it means to be a Texan. Of course, there’s no one answer, but that’s the beauty of it. I want to explore the state and beyond, to highlight the things that connect us and also make us unique. I want Texans, both new and old, to read these pages and come away with a deeper understanding of what they want Texas to be, not just what it’s going to be or what it’s been.

My job? I’m simply the conversation starter, and here are a few ways I plan to get things rolling.

Food-forward

First and foremost, I’m a food man. Always have been. I firmly believe that the best way to get to know a place and the people who live there is to sample the local cuisine—whether that’s an roadside taco on the New Mexico border or a high-end exploration of South Texas flavors at Credence (my newest concept). Every dish has a story, and I love a good story—particularly one with some spice.

Food will be the foundation for much of what this site has to offer. You'll be able to test new recipes inspired by my personal history, learn hard-earned techniques, or get the lowdown on a place you should add to your culinary bucket list. Either way, come hungry.

Texas in its natural state

Of course, you can’t have good food without nature, and I see the two as inextricably linked. I’m a hunter and angler, which means I’m also a foodie. I love to explore vibrant flavors at their source, to get the purest rendition of what Mother Nature has to offer and then put it on a plate. I have saltwater in my blood, so expect plenty of coastal excursions, along with forays into the woods for the tastiest game on four legs or flying through the air. On top of that, I’ll offer some tips and tricks to navigate the outdoors as a hunter and angler, drawing on my knowledge from more than a few decades of romping around the state’s wild places.

Lastly, I deeply believe that hunters and anglers are the best advocates for wild places, and also carry the heaviest responsibility to protect those places. I’m going to explore the successes, failures, obstacles, and opportunities I see across Texas and beyond, highlighting conservation efforts that are essential to what we do and the places we explore.

Your good-time guide

If I were to wrap my life with a tidy bow, I’d say that I was born to create a good time. It’s as simple as that. It’s why I’ve been in the restaurant business for so long, and it’s why I find myself seeking out any place with cold drinks and good tunes in tow. I’m naturally inclined toward hospitality, to make sure everyone has a smile on their face and, if not, to get them to one as soon as possible. Through this site, I want to accomplish that goal by letting Texans know about the sights and sounds that have certain significance to our state.

I want to seek out the music, history, and destinations that have helped shape an identity for the Lone Star State, so we can all continue to shape it for decades to come. I’ll help you plan road trips across the state, build your own bucket list, and shed some neon light on that undiscovered dive bar.

You may notice that none of this lives in a silo. I’ve done my best to make my work a passion, and make my passions my work. I love it, and wouldn’t have it any other way. My goal for this brand is the same. I want the wild game to be a foundation for a recipe, and for that recipe to tell a story. I want the post-hunt celebration to just happen to swing by a dive bar that’s been slinging drinks for 100 years. I want the fishing to be as much about the conversation as the catching. I want all of this to show the world the value of wild places. And, ultimately, I want it all to point to a place unlike any other on the planet—hard to know, easy to love, and always ready for a party. It’s called Texas, and I can’t wait to show it to you.

Speckled trout and I go way back. The same is true for a lot of us here in Texas.

We’re lucky because they’re plentiful along the Texas Gulf Coast and have been for years and years. Striking out on redfish? Go find some trout to throw on the grill—there always seem to be a few around. I fear that proliferation has led to a bit of a careless attitude towards the fish. Trout are an important building block in the Gulf Coast’s ecosystem and, if they’re around, it’s an indication that we’re sitting pretty from a conservation standpoint. Of course, the opposite is true as well.

What can we do about this? Plenty. While conservation organizations are extremely important, the most important conservation efforts begin and end with us—anglers. Let’s lay the groundwork.

The state of specks

If you look at the Gulf Coast as a whole, the health of speckled trout populations is a mixed bag at best. As of early 2023, Louisiana faces its lowest population ever due to overfishing and habitat loss. Their state biologists are currently struggling to convince the incredibly influential commercial and recreational fishing markets that while tighter regulations may seem bad for business—declining trout populations are far worse.

In Florida, they face dwindling populations year after year, although water mismanagement seems to be the culprit. Massive amounts of historical development throughout the state, along with supposed mishandling of natural water sources, has decimated grasslands, marshes, mangroves, and coastlines. This means water salinity has been a constant struggle in recent years, which has led to all sorts of fishery problems, from which the speckled sea trout is not immune. Their populations are nearing all-time lows.

It’s not apples-to-apples. Texas has traditionally boasted cleaner aquatic environments than Florida, and has very different coastal environments than our closest neighbors to the east. I’d also say that we have two things in common—booming development and booming human populations— two factors that have been named as primary suspects by our neighboring states.

Trends in Texas

Overall, we’ve been seeing a decline in trout numbers since 2004, which is likely due to historical freezes, increased fishing pressure, as well as some environmental shifts across the coast. Places like San Antonio and Aransas Bay have seen a significant reduction in angler catches, while Matagorda Bay—while once experiencing a similar decline—is currently on the rebound.

So is the sky falling in Texas? No. And that’s great news. Things have been better, sure, but they’ve also been worse and populations seem to be improving. To their credit, Texas Parks & Wildlife has been proactive. After the massive freeze of February 2021, which killed innumerable trout, they enacted emergency slot lengths in some areas to help populations bounce back, and we’re already seeing positive results—so much so that they’re widening those limits for this year.

The question is, are we doing enough? The truth of the matter is that politics are a necessary evil when it comes to conservation, but we shouldn’t be relying solely on Austin to protect the places and pastimes we love along the coast.

Conservation on an individual scale

In Texas, we’re a very conservation-minded group. Hell, the Coastal Conservation Association started in Houston because people like my dad saw a need to protect our coastal waterways and the fish that swim among them. As coastal anglers, we need to set the example for what grass-roots conservation looks like, both for our fellow Texans and anglers across the country. Here are a few ideas for taking on a personal conservation attitude:

suck at fishing

Just kidding. Sort of. There’s no better conservation strategy than being unable to hook into a fish. If you’re a bad angler, God bless you—your money for fishing licenses is being put to good use.

Self-imposed limits

Bag limits are the bare minimum, and so are slot limits. Think about reducing the amount of fish you keep—particularly the larger fish, which are typically females.

Catch-and-release within reason

Many anglers consider catch-and-release fishing a win-win for both fish and anglers. But studies have shown that speckled trout have an 80–90% survival rate when being released—meaning 1–2 of 10 aren’t going to make it. Even if you’re not planning to keep fish, maybe take it easy on them if the numbers start stacking up.

Safe fish handling

If you are practicing catch-and-release, be sure to release the fish quickly and make sure there aren’t any sharks nearby who are going to move in for an unearned meal.

Make anglers earn it

Think about how openly you share your favorite spots. Without being a jerk about it, let anglers find their own honey holes. This will help prevent overcrowding, overfishing, and ultimately help the angler by giving them the chance to learn for themselves.

Give back

Lastly, give your time and money to conservation organizations. Through our work at Goode Co., we’ve partnered with CCA on numerous occasions and fully support their cause. We even make a special-edition pie for them. Do some research and find other organizations that are doing good work—there are plenty fighting the good fight.

Texans are known for protecting the things we love, and I don’t want trout to be a relationship we let slip away. The same holds true for family as for trout—it just wouldn't be the same without ’em.

Here’s my not-so-exhaustive list of events you should add to your road trip this fall. At the end of this article, I'll post any links and relevant information to help get the party started.

June

Starting off the summer, we’ve got a uniquely Texas experience, one that gives you a water-level perspective of a good chunk of the state, starting in San Marcos and running all the way down to my stomping grounds of Seadrift. In early June, hundreds of paddlers take to the rivers of Central and South Texas to embark on a 260-mile punishment known as the Texas Water Safari. My suggestion? Do a little research before signing up. The water hazards, snakes, and oppressive heat may be the most obvious obstacles, but it’s the midnight hallucinations that worry me. Paddle at your own risk. 

July

You may recall a certain holiday pops up in July, but we’re going to skip right past those shenanigans because, well, you probably already have plans or don’t need help tracking some down. Instead, let’s skip to the end of the month and head south for Viva Big Bend. This is a great way to experience a sparsely populated, but stunningly beautiful part of the state. In the style of South by Southwest, artists play at various venues across southwest Texas, so you can get a taste of Alpine, Presidio, Marfa, Marathon, and Terlingua. It’ll be hot, but who cares. The beer will be cold and the music will be great. 

August

I’m sure there’s some kind of worthwhile event happening in August, but now’s the time to get out. Save yourself, it’s too damn hot and you need to save your energy for the fall. I don’t say this often, but this is your chance to head north for a bit.

September

Whether you’re a hunter or not, there’s no escaping the fact that the dove opener is something akin to a national holiday in Texas. It’s a chance to circle the trucks around a sunflower field, pop the tailgate, and then pop a few cold ones. If the birds show up, even better. Yes, it marks the beginning of hunting season, but also the moment most beloved by all Texans—the impending cold fronts that come with it. It’ll still be blistering hot, but it’ll be blistering hot with a side of hope. So my recommendation is to find a field near you and keep your eyes to the sky—good things are coming.

October

It’s hard to pick just one event in October. It’s a great time of year, which is probably why the social calendar across the state starts to fill up quickly.

At the beginning of the month, it’s time to don your lederhosen for Oktoberfest. There are plenty of events to choose from, but the consensus is that Fredericksburg is the place to be for an authentic taste of Bavarian charm and copious steins of beer. Or, if you're looking for a small-town setting, be sure to hit up the Round Top Antiques Fair. It's one of my favorite spots in Texas, filled with character and surprisingly fine dining—plus, you never know what kind of treasure you may dig up.

For a soirée inspired by our neighbors to the south, celebrate the afterlife in style with San Antonio’s Dia de Los Muertos Festival—if you can’t make it to the real thing across the border. It may sound morbid, but it’s a beautiful Mexican tradition and anything but. Or, if you want to escape the crowds, head way out west to Guadalupe Mountains National Park to see fall foliage in its finest form. Its on my short list as well, and I've heard that McKittrick Canyon is a tough hike to beat.

November

Just when things are really starting to cool off in Texas, events start to heat up on opposite sides of the state. You could head south to the legendary Terlingua Chili Cook-Off—a place that has plenty of flavor, chili or not. Jerry Jeff Walker was onto something. Up north, by way of Amarillo, track down some top-tier rodeo action at the Working Ranch Cowboys Association (WRCA) World Championship Rodeo. If you looked up “real deal” in the dictionary, these guys and gals would be front and center.

And then, we have a much different kind of rodeo. If you’re like me, the colder temperatures make the hair stand up on the back of my neck for one reason only—the redfish run. Along the Texas Coast, “bull” redfish (i.e. the big boys) head into shallower water to spawn, and for a few weeks, anglers have their best shot at catching their personal best. Hook up the boat, hire a quality guide, or simply head for the jetties, and you’re in for one hell of a ride when that rod tip starts to bend. Hold on tight.

December

With the holiday season in full swing, it’s time to see Texas at its most festive. If you’re looking for a more classic approach, take a trip down to Galveston for the Dickens on the Strand celebration, where the city’s most iconic street decks the halls with all of the bells and whistles the city has to offer—music, food, drinks, live entertainment, and a step back in time.

Or, if you want to see how Mother Nature decks the halls, take a trip out past Fort Davis and attend a Star Party at the McDonald Observatory. Tucked in the Davis Mountains and surrounded by some of the darkest skies in the country—it's renowned for showing off celestial bodies via some of the most advanced telescopes on the planet.

If you’ve ticked off half of this list by the end of the year, you’ve done alright for yourself. Experiencing even one of these iconic Texas events will leave a lasting impression—just writing them down gets me excited to hit the road. Here’s a list of dates, locations, and resources to aid your adventure:

A scattergun, as the Texas Rangers called it, can be used in more ways than you may realize. It opens up the pursuit of game species that are too many to list here, from quail and dove to white-tailed deer and wild hogs, and it also opens up the sport of competitive (or not-so-competitive) shooting. Adding to its accessibility factor, shotgun shells are relatively cheap and plentiful.

Due to its overall simplicity and the gentle nature of lighter gauges, a shotgun is a great way to show new hunters and shooters their way around a firearm. But here’s the problem: the majority of us pick up a shotgun and just assume it’ll do the work for us. Then we find ourselves at the dove hunt, with little gray torpedoes flying around and nothing but a box of empty shells at our feet. Trust me, the old “I thought I cleaned this gun” trick isn’t going to fool anyone.

The good news is that it’s not too late. Learning how to fit, mount, and shoot a shotgun are foundational skills for any hunter and my goal is to help you build that foundation. In this two-part series, we’re going to tackle both the proper fit and mount for a shotgun and then how to put those techniques into action with the fun part.

Gun fit

Shooting a shotgun straddles the line between art and technique. You can’t worry about the nuts and bolts of shooting when a bird flushes or a clay target skips across your field of view. It has to be a reaction. With that in mind, much of the “technique” of shotgunning happens before you ever load a shell into the chamber. It starts with fit.

Go to the pro

First and foremost, if you’re new to shooting, go to a professional. Find a local shop with an expert and let them walk you through the fitting process and help you pin down the shotgun that’s best for you and your pursuits. If you’re looking for top-of-the-line shotguns and hard-earned experience, my go-to in the Houston area is Gordy & Sons. Even if you’re not in the market, it’s worth checking out their collection.

The blind test

When you’re looking at shotguns, start by shouldering the gun (unloaded, of course) with your eyes closed. Once you’re in a shooting position, open your eyes. Are you oriented down the barrel? Do you have a clear view past your bead (the sight at the end of the barrel)? Does the gun feel comfortable or is it awkward? Try this a few times to get a general idea of how the gun feels before moving forward.

Length of pull

One of the primary considerations for gun fit is its “length of pull,” which refers to the distance between the trigger and the end of the gun stock. A pull that is too short or too long will force you to mount and shoot the gun improperly, so a good fit is key here. With your hands around the stock and forend, lift the gun to your cheek and sight down the barrel. There should be a one- to three-finger gap between your nose and the base of your thumb—any farther and the pull is too long, and if your thumb is touching your nose, it’s too short.

Gun drop

A gun’s “drop” refers to the distance from the top of the barrel to the “comb”—the peak of the stock—as well as the “heel”—the far end of the stock. This fit is a bit more subjective and it primarily comes down to comfort and line of sight. For the comb drop, shoulder the gun and ensure your eye naturally sights along the barrel. Ideally, you’d be able to shoot a few clay targets or even paper targets to make sure you’re sighting correctly.

Generally speaking, field guns have a larger heel drop than guns designed for competitive target shooting. Some stocks are better for those with longer or shorter necks, but once again, a comfortable fit is more important and a drop of 1 ⅝" at the comb and 2 ½" at the heel is a good starting point for most people.

Gun cast

Some guns have a “cast,” which refers to a slight angle in the stock for right- and left-handed shooters. Right-handed guns are cast to the right (looking down the barrel), making it easy for the shooter to align their head over the barrel. For left-handed shooters mounting their gun on the left shoulder, the gun will cast to the left for the same reason. It’s worth noting that there are many guns with no cast at all, that are simply ambidextrous. For those southpaws out there, I know it can be tough to find the right fit for anything, shotguns included, so know that there are plenty of great left-handed shooters who’ve shouldered a right-handed gun—or just go with the cast-less option.

Gun mount/practice

Now that you’ve picked out your dream shotgun, it’s time to learn how to use it properly. You may think that mounting a shotgun should be part of the “shooting” section but I’ve split it out for a reason—not only because it’s incredibly important but also because it can happen well before you start shooting.

A dry run

Some of the best shooters out there are those who sit in their living room (gun unloaded—I’m going to keep saying that) and practice bringing their gun to shoulder. It may sound boring but it’s one of the best ways to get comfortable with your new gun and bake solid foundational skills into your subconscious.

There are a few options. First, go back to our blind test and repeat that process over and over again. Second, set up a few “targets” on a table and simply practice shouldering your gun and switching between targets. Lastly, if you really want to dial your skills, get a laser sight or a cheap laser pointer and attach it to your barrel. Being able to swing your gun along a straight line is important, and you can practice this indoors by tracing lines with the laser. You may be surprised at how difficult it can be to keep things steady and straight.

A Proper Mount

Your performance as a shooter is only as good as your mount, and it comes down to building solid habits. If you start early and practice often, mounting your shotgun will seem like second nature. Here’s how to do it: Raise your gun out and up. That’s it. Too many shooters only nail one part of this process, either raising the gun up and crowding their face or raising the gun out and craning their neck down to the barrel.

Your mount should be one fluid motion—moving the gun away from your body and lifting it to your cheek. You shouldn’t need to lower your head or adjust your positioning—the gun should adjust to you. As I said, it’s simple. Practice it over and over and over again at the beginning and you’ll be laying a solid foundation for any shot.

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It’s easy to skim through this part of the process. Technically, you could pick up a shotgun on day one and go hunting or head out to the range, but the more time you spend on these techniques and foundational elements, the better you’ll do when it comes to Part Two—where we put all of this into practice and learn how to shoot.

Three generations had drifted apart over the decades, and it was high time to ring the proverbial dinner bell and bring everybody home—for us, this has always been the Texas coast. It took a ringleader and some planning to get us all together, but damn, was it worth it.

Before you think this is just a chance for me to wax poetic about family, well, that’s only partially true. I figure my experience could hold true for a lot of us—Texans live in a big state, and it can be easy to drift away from those who matter most. Namely, those folks who share your last name. Maybe it’s time to close the gap and rekindle those connections, however that looks for you.

In lieu of preaching, I’ll just tell you why it mattered to me.

Closely tied, distantly tethered

There’s a reason I chose the coast for our family gathering—saltwater runs in our veins. The coast is where both sides of my family put down roots generations ago. My mother’s side came from Italy via New Orleans, where her father took up the clarinet and made a living as a professional jazz player in the French Quarter, eventually moving to Texas to work for Dow Chemical. On my dad’s side, his father also worked at Dow Chemical and they lived in Clute, Texas, where my dad could throw a rock and hit the Gulf of Mexico.

As a single-income family with five kids, my dad grew up enjoying the bounty of the coast because he had to—those oysters, trout, and redfish helped feed the family when times were tight. Eventually, that deep connection to the water was passed down to me and my family.

My dad had two brothers—Uncle Joe and Uncle John, who are now 80 and 85 years old, respectively. Uncle Joe and I have stayed close. We’re both fans of live music, and at eight decades old, he can still keep up with me—glass of Jack in hand—at just about any music festival we nab tickets for. As for Uncle John, he’s the classic older brother—responsible, conservative, and reliable. As a petroleum engineer, he founded one of the largest pipeline companies in Venezuela, but was forced out of the country when the government crumbled and Hugo Chávez swooped in, nationalizing most of the industry. He and his wife (a Venezuelan native) now live in Houston.

With both of them back in the States, I felt like the timing was perfect to get the boys back together.

For the record

Our getaway was a rare opportunity to mobilize all the Goode men I know—three generations of us—over to the coast for some fine eats, a friendly fishing tournament, and some storytelling of the highest caliber.

We borrowed a buddy’s beautiful Galveston home on the water. We booked a mariachi band. Best of all, we found a way to put our family’s narrative on the record. I was able to call in a colleague from Texas Foodways (a subset of the Southern Foodways Alliance, an incredible organization that documents and preserves food culture in the South) to interview my uncles about their time on the coast. None of us are getting any younger, and we figured there’s no time like the present to set our stories in stone.

As soon as Uncle Joe and John stepped foot in town, the memories flooded back. Our stay was only about 20 miles from their childhood home, and it’s amazing how a place can unlock those stories that have been tucked away in our subconscious. (It also helps that the Texas coast doesn’t change much—it largely looks the same, despite more than a few hurricanes that have rolled through since their early days.)

We toured their childhood home after the current homeowners were kind enough to let us in. We even went by Harden’s Dairy Bar, an iconic burger joint in Lake Jackson where Uncle John used to flip burgers back in 1962. The cook invited him to pick up where he left off, and we watched my uncle flip burgers the same way he had decades ago. He made the local newspaper.

Inspired by these memories, Uncle John told us a story I hadn’t heard before. After graduating from A&M, a local car dealership would finance a car for you if you showed them a job-offer letter—which he had from Exxon. John got his car, got Joe, and the two promptly took off on a road trip to Mexico, visiting family and seeing the sights. He recalled stopping to pick up a group of hitchhikers—a mariachi band trying to get to their next gig—under the agreement that they’d play for them during the drive.

Even though this story unfolded well before my days, I can vividly picture my uncles cruising through Old Mexico with a mariachi band as their only soundtrack, save for a stiff breeze coming through the windows. These are the stories I don’t want to lose.

What’s your big excuse?

This article isn’t about our weekend. It’s about what the weekend meant. I don’t need to tell you about the oysters we cooked up, or the cocktails, or the mariachi band, or the fishing tournament. I don’t even remember who won.

The weekend was about family. During those days on the coast, our name didn’t represent barbeque. It didn’t represent seafood. It didn’t even represent Houston. It represented John, Joe, and Jim. It represented a bond that can’t be broken, no matter the difference in our personalities or the distance between us.

Here’s the thing. You have a last name—dig into it. Do a little “blood test.” Dig up all of the skeletons from your family’s past, and you just might uncover a few Mexican road-trip stories along with ’em.

I can’t bring my dad back. Uncle John and Joe will be gone someday, too. So will I. When that happens, the only thing that remains are the stories we tell each other. I’m proud to say my kids will have access to these stories whenever they want them, whether that’s tomorrow or 30 years from now.

If you’ve been meaning to get the band back together, there’s no time like the present. Give your uncle or granddad or cousin a call. You never really know what’s going to happen, but that makes for the best stories anyway. That, and a good mariachi band.