In his own words.

Sunday Table, August 2026

Q: The book is called Kid Brother. Is it about you or about Scott?

"It's about me. He's in it the way weather is in it. You can't tell the story of a fire without saying which way the wind was blowing."

Q: Has he read it?

"I sent him the manuscript and offered him the afterword. The afterword is a blank page with his name on it. So, I don't know. You'd have to ask him. Nobody can, though. He doesn't return calls."

Q: Chapter eleven, about your son, took nine drafts.

"It's still not right. I shipped it anyway, because that's the whole problem the chapter is about. I keep waiting until I'm ready, and he keeps turning four without me."

The Long Run podcast, April 2026

Q: Sub-three at Boston. When did you know?

"Mile 22. I always know at mile 22. It's where I post from. Boukzam used to know when the brisket was done twenty minutes before the probe did. Mile 22 is my version of that. The rest is just waiting."

Q: Your brother wrote a running book.

"He did. It's called My Body is a River. Great title. I'd know. It's on my garage wall in paint marker, dated 2018."

Q: Are you saying he took it?

"I'm saying the river started in my garage and I'm the one who still runs. People can do what they want with that."

Smoke Signal, May 2026

Q: Cigarbers. Explain the name.

"Garber. Cigar. Cigarbers. Scott said it was embarrassing. I had the font enlarged."

Q: Will there ever be a blend named for him?

"Customers ask every week. No. I don't blend things that don't finish."

Founders Weekly Summit, closing keynote, November 2025

"Everybody in this room was told no by somebody who was supposed to say yes. A parent, a partner, a brother. Here is the only thing I know: you do not need their yes. You need a grill, a door that opens, and the patience to leave the thing on the fire until it's actually ready. The table you weren't invited to is not the only table. Build one. Then decide who sits at it. I decided. He can come eat first."

Culinary school commencement, May 2026

"A year ago I sat where you are sitting, with honors, running a restaurant, and nobody from my family in the building. I want to tell you that didn't matter. It mattered. It mattered a lot. And then I went and opened seven more restaurants, so it also didn't stop anything. Both of those things are true, and you are going to have to learn to carry both of them in the same hand you hold the tongs with."

Low & Slow Quarterly, March 2026

Q: Who taught you to cook?

"A dog, a garage, and a brother who wouldn't. In that order of usefulness."