The smoke started in a garage in Ozone Park. Summer of 2020, the city shut in on itself, Ruben Santana out back with an offset smoker and a stack of hardwood, learning brisket the long way, which is the only way, hours and heat and patience through the night. No stall, no sign, no map with his corner of Queens on it. Just a backyard, a fire kept honest until morning, and the smell pulling down the block before anyone knew there was anything worth lining up for.
