History The story began in Mátra, reached, among other places, the USA, and then returned to Mátra again. Drawing a circle that only in this way, over the years, gives its true form, I could say its taste. During my travels, gastronomy was not the center of the circle, least of all smoking, not even creation, with its complex meaning. Due to my work, I traveled a lot, I was essentially constantly on the road. I visited most of Asia, the countries of the old continent, and of course certain parts of the States. I visited the largest players in the automotive industry, in various capacities and for various purposes, all the while, I lived from hotel to hotel, slept and waited in airports, I got bored with the taste of restaurant and hotel food. Then, perhaps over time, it became important for me to connect, even if only to a small extent, to the local traditions, customs, everyday life, and people in the country where I am, in the city where I spend a longer or shorter time. I want the place to carry with it some tradition, everyday life that is unique to that place, something that you can grasp as a stranger, take home, become attached to, and tell others about many, many years later, or just to yourself. Something that you can love, that you can relate to, that maybe over time can become a part of you. This is how I got to the remote, secluded villages of Japan, the slopes of Fuji, the smaller and larger islands of Asia, the guesthouses of fishing villages, the alleys of small towns near the Bosphorus Bridge, the agro lodges of English villages, the hundreds of years old guest rooms of farms around Munich, the rickety Motel rooms of the suburbs of American big cities and of course the “small towns” of Texas. Well, yes. Here we are, in any case, at this point you could already smell the smoke of the smokers, or rather, here you could really smell the heavy, black pepper-scented smoke that floats around most weekends. It’s not that you haven’t encountered the taste of BBQ and the sight of it, mostly on the menu of a big city restaurant, or better yet, on the table in front of you, not at all, but what is certain is that the BBQ feeling was felt thickly and deeply in the air here. Lochar, the capital of BBQ, was not named by me, but by the Texas Senate. An unforgettable experience in every way, not only a gastronomic but also an aesthetic pleasure is the Texas Trinity, the trio of beef jerky, homemade sausage and ribs. Then at least as defining an experience and an indelible mark is the Taylor, Elgin duo, an irreplaceable and inimitable tradition, it is no coincidence, this is the origin, the origin of what we now call the Texas Law-Slow Smoking style. But at least that is how Brownsville, down South, had such an impact on me, with its truly unique tradition, which is really no longer present in other regions, the beef head BBQ, on an open fire, on a dug-in grill, Low-Slow style. It is impossible not to remember the traditions and modern trends of trendy big cities, Austin, Dallas, Fortworth, San Antonio or even Houston. It was clear, I wanted to put this away, to keep it within myself, I wanted to bring this home with me and primarily for myself. Then, being partly a technical person, I wanted to know the mechanism behind this, the driving and exciting phenomenon. To understand the raw material, the structure, the spice, the time, the fire, the wood, the tradition, the legend, the practice, the skill, the know-how, the capital Story. And somehow to take all this home with me, to me, to preserve it, to smoke it for my own. So I came home, we could say the circle was closed, with the no small mission of coaxing smoke out of a Texas iron here, in Hungary, at the foot of the Mátra Mountains, namely, a big, massive, grumpy Texas Off set smoker. But a smoker is just a smoker, an iron, true in itself Iron, capitalized iron, but still, here it is in a foreign land, under the Mátra Mountains, not in its own homeland, in the dry, hot Texas sun, where everyone knows what it is, what it is for, tradition, flavors, spices, Texas beef, and competent hands have been woven into its carbon fibers. Well, then how else to proceed. Well, first of all, you need an Iron, the iron. After more than 20 years in the industry, years spent on technical lines, planning and implementing countless projects, in the web of my passion and experience related to traditional, American, and within that strictly Southern, Texas smoking, I decided to design, make and popularize that deep, true, distant, but undoubtedly authentic, traditional passion in all its flavors and forms. And not only the passion, but also the Iron, the style, the method no less. The place and the team, our family business, which has been in existence for almost 30 years, started in the agricultural machinery and metal industry, the workshop, the machines, the tools, the knowledge, the smell of metal and lubricating oil, have all been active players in my life for many years. Through my parents' business, the smell of metal shavings, welding material, coolant, the screaming music of metal, while cutting, the production of the sparks resembling a sparkler and my father's overriding precision, his obsession with the perpendicular-parallel world, became part of my everyday life and weekends as a child. So the story began here, with these opportunities, knowledge, skills, experience and passion, the creation of the first Smoking Barell began.