Edition: U.S. / Global  FOOD; The Texas Three-Step  By Molly
O'Neill Published: July 4, 1993  The Texas horizon goes on
forever, punctuated by the occasional oil rig, the lackadaisical
cattle herd, and every once in a while, flat urban sprawl. And
everywhere (at least on weekends, as sunset approaches), there
are discrete plumes of smoke rising like tumbleweed across the
big blue sky.  Barbecue smoke is to the Texas skyline what
cathedral spires are to European capitals: sacred things, icons
of identity. Barbecue fanatics speak of it more like religion
than cooking. In Texas, says Dean Fearing, chef of the Mansion
on Turtle Creek in Dallas, "Barbecue is God."  In addition to
being an article of faith, barbecue is a way of life, according
to Stephan Pyles, the chef and former co-owner of the Baby Routh
restaurant in Dallas. "Down here, it's a ritual that's bred in
the bone, then developed from childhood on."  Both Fearing and
Pyles are speaking, of course, of Texas-style barbecue, which is
beef that is marinat