Waggie

Out on the open range, where the cattle roam and the campfire never goes cold, there is one name that every pitmaster, ranch hand, and grill master knows: Waggie.
Waggie was born in the Texas Panhandle, the son of a cattle rancher and a woman who could cook a steak so perfectly it made grown cowboys go quiet. He grew up understanding two things deeply: the land, and the fire. By the time he was old enough to tend the grill himself, he'd already developed opinions about sauce that most people spend a lifetime forming.
Waggie spent his twenties working ranches from Texas to Montana, cooking for crews of hungry hands who needed something bold enough to match the work they'd done. He experimented constantly — reducing, layering, balancing smoke and tang and depth until he had something that didn't just dress a steak, it completed it.
His steak sauce is not subtle. It's rich, smoky, and deeply savory, with a backbone of pepper heat that builds slow and steady, the way a good fire does. It doesn't compete with the meat. It honors it.
Tennessee Bob crossed paths with Waggie at a cattle auction in Abilene, of all places. Waggie had a thermos of his sauce and was putting it on everything in sight. Bob asked for a taste. Then he asked for the recipe. Waggie laughed and said the recipe wasn't for sale — but a partnership might be.
Best deal Bob ever made.
