Television had given me mixed messages about slow cookin’: Either it’s the wood that makes it good, or I wanted to taste the meat, not the heat.

I moved to Texas shortly before King of the Hill went off the air. Whole new vistas were opened up to me: I suddenly understood the jokes about Luby’s. I learned about LuAnn platters through Texas music.

But I did not truly understand barbecue. Sure, I knew those savages in Kansas City just cook up terrible cuts of meat because they’re going to smear them with sauce, anyhow, and, in Hank Hill’s defense, Texas is about the meat.

When I moved here, my dedication to learning the local culture demanded I sample the best barbecue.

When I lived in Houston, an associate insisted we try a place in the Acres Homes neighborhood. Acres Homes isn’t the most idyllic part of Houston, but crowds of people were coming and going from the restaurant.

I bring all this up because, for the first time in four years, Texas Monthly has updated its list of the state’s best barbecue.

Loyal Scaiaholics know how seriously I take food contests, so I dutifully wandered up to the place in Fort Worth that just opened last year and shot to the top of the charts.

Today was the first time Goldee’s was open since being named #1. The people at the front of the line say they showed up about 6 o’clock this morning.

“I’d like to learn more about the gentleman who just bought $200 of food,” I thought to myself.

He explained he was meeting his dad, and he would take a plate to his brother-in-law later. The three of them would split:

2 pounds of brisket

1 pound of pork ribs

1/2 pound of turkey

Sausage

Cheese grits

Pork Hash

I hope everyone got enough to eat.

Obviously, he went with the banana pudding. What is he, a tourist?!

As a fellow Texan, he offered me some brisket. I was working on a deadline, but since I’ve lived in Texas 12 years, I understand if someone offers you brisket, you make time for brisket.

That gave us a chance to compare notes. I talked to him about Acres Homes, and he explained when he heard about this place, he wanted to make the trip over from Dallas because they don’t list a closing time. They stay open until they sell out.

Despite his quest for the BBQ holy grail, he and his associate were more pragmatic about other types of barbecue. They accepted Kansas City because Kansas City had perfected its own style.

Many times I get frustrated with orders to shove a microphone in people’s face, but today it worked. He made some very strong points:

— It’s smoked meat. How can that be bad? Even bad smoked meat is better than the best brussels sprout.

— If you keep an open mind, you’ll enjoy whatever you eat because the person serving you has perfected his or her craft.

People commenting on Texas Monthly’s rundown were less impressed.

“This list is a joke right? You send a crew of folks out to sample BBQ that probably don’t have a clue what they are doing,” one person wrote.

“Being from Lockhart, TX. All I can say is this list is a joke,” another posited.

Listen, just declaring you’re from a place does not make you an expert. I’m from the Birthplace of Aviation, but even we don’t know which direction airplanes should point.

BBQ is subjective. Maybe that’s the lesson we should all take from this. I like Panther City BBQ and Derek Allan BBQ, but is that only because they’re near the Ol’ Scaia Place? Is Derek Allan too commercial, selling beanies and whatnot? I can’t imagine someone in Acres Homes trying to sell me a beanie.

I’ll continue eating from other people’s plates of brisket because I know you’re never done improving yourself.