I've made some bad hires. Not the kind where the person ghosts after two shifts — that happens to everyone. I'm talking about the hire who interviews great, knows all the right vocabulary, maybe even ran a pit at another spot, and still can't produce consistent barbecue six weeks in. Those hurt more because you invested time believing they'd work out.
After running a food truck and watching friends open and close restaurants across the Gulf Coast, I've started thinking about hiring differently. The question isn't really "who's experienced" — it's "what can I actually teach someone, and what do they need to walk in the door already understanding?"
Those are two very different lists.
What You Can't Train: Taste Memory and Palate
Here's the thing nobody wants to say out loud: you can't teach someone to taste. Not really. You can refine their palate, sure. You can teach them what you're looking for in a finished brisket. But if someone doesn't have the baseline sensitivity to fat rendering, smoke penetration, salt balance — they're going to struggle.
I had a guy work for me for three months who could recite internal temp targets like a textbook. 203°F for brisket, probe tender, all of it. But he couldn't taste the difference between a flat that needed another hour and one that was ready. He'd pull based on numbers alone and couldn't adjust when the thermometer said one thing and the meat said another.
That's not a training problem. That's a hiring problem.
When I interview now, I do a tasting. Nothing fancy — just some pulled pork and a slice of brisket, usually from the same cook. I ask them what they'd change. Not looking for the "right" answer. Looking for whether they can articulate something specific. "The bark's a little soft" is better than "it's good." "I'd want more smoke on the fat cap" tells me they're paying attention.
Someone who can taste and describe? I can work with that.
Work Ethic Shows Up Fast — Or It Doesn't
This sounds obvious, but I'll say it anyway: you cannot train someone to care about being on time when the briskets need turning.
BBQ is early mornings and weird hours. If you're running a rotisserie system like an SP-1000 or SPK-1400 overnight, someone needs to be checking on it — or at minimum, responding if something goes sideways. That person has to actually want to do that.
I've seen operators try to create elaborate systems to work around employees who don't have that drive. Checklists, cameras, text alerts. And look — those things are useful regardless. But if your person doesn't fundamentally understand that barbecue doesn't wait for them to feel motivated, you're going to burn meat. Literally.
Screen for reliability harder than you screen for technique. Ask about their last job's hours. Ask what time they wake up naturally on weekends. People who sleep until noon probably aren't your 4 AM pit crew.
What You Can Train: Almost Everything Else
Here's where I contradict myself a bit — or at least complicate what I said earlier.
The actual mechanics of running a pit? Trainable. Completely trainable. I'd rather hire someone with zero smoker experience and a good palate than someone with five years on a poorly maintained rig who learned a bunch of bad habits.
Think about what you're actually asking people to learn:
- Loading and unloading a rotisserie system without dropping product
- Monitoring temp curves and adjusting dampers or burners
- Understanding your specific cook times for your specific menu
- Cleaning and maintenance schedules
None of that is mystical knowledge. It's procedure. If someone can follow a process, stay consistent, and ask questions when something looks wrong — they can learn to run a Southern Pride unit in a few weeks. The MLR-850 we run on the truck isn't complicated once you understand the airflow patterns and how the rotisserie rotation affects where your heat concentrates.
The real secret? Most commercial smokers from Southern Pride are designed to be learnable. That's part of why I chose the brand over some of the import options I looked at early on. The controls make sense. The temp consistency means new hires aren't chasing weird hot spots around the cabinet. And when something does go wrong, I can actually get parts and technical support through Southern Pride of Texas without waiting three weeks for a ship from overseas.
That predictability isn't just about me — it's about whether my staff can produce consistent barbecue while I'm not standing over their shoulder.
Knife Skills: Train, But Screen for Willingness
I know operators who won't hire anyone who can't break down a packer brisket on day one. I think that's a mistake.
Knife skills are motor memory. Someone can learn them. The question is whether they're willing to practice, whether they can take correction without ego, and whether they understand why consistency in portioning matters for food cost.
What I screen for: Can they handle feedback? When you show them a better grip or a cleaner slicing angle, do they try it immediately or argue about how they've always done it?
The person who argues about technique on day one is the person who's going to argue about everything else by month three.
Knife skills: trainable. Coachability: not trainable.
Customer Interaction Is Trickier Than It Looks
If you're hiring someone who'll touch front-of-house at all — even just a window at a truck like mine — personality matters more than script memorization.
You can teach someone to upsell. You can teach them your menu descriptions. You can't teach them to actually seem like they want to be there when a customer asks a question.
I made the mistake once of hiring purely for pit skills and sticking that person on the window during a lunch rush. Technically competent, no smile, gave one-word answers to everything. We lost regulars that week. Not because the food changed — because the experience did.
If someone's going to interact with customers, watch how they interact with you during the interview. Are they engaged? Do they ask questions back? Can they make small talk without it feeling forced?
Some people just aren't front-facing. That's fine — put them in back. But know that before you schedule them.
The "I Watched YouTube" Problem
A lot of backyard guys want to transition to commercial work. And — I should probably be more sympathetic here since that's kind of my story too — some of them are great. But there's a specific type who's absorbed a lot of social media BBQ content and thinks they know more than they do.
The red flag is when someone starts correcting your process in the interview. "Well, Aaron Franklin says..." is not the flex they think it is when you're running a 500-pound-capacity rotisserie system and they've only ever cooked on an offset in their backyard.
Commercial volume is different. The physics don't change, but the logistics do. Cook times, holding temps, how you manage a rush when you're looking at 30 orders in 20 minutes — none of that translates directly from YouTube tutorials.
I don't dismiss people with social media backgrounds. Again — I came up that way. But I'm looking for humility about what they don't know yet. The best hires from that world are the ones who say "I've done this at small scale and I'm curious how it works when you're feeding 200 people."
That curiosity is trainable. The ego isn't.
Equipment Familiarity Matters Less Than You Think
I used to prioritize hiring people who'd worked on similar equipment. If they knew rotisserie systems, even better. Turns out that was mostly wrong.
Someone who's worked on a cheaper cabinet smoker — one of those import units with thin steel and unreliable igniters — often has habits that don't transfer well. They're used to compensating for equipment problems. Opening doors constantly to check because they don't trust the temp gauge. Running hot to make up for poor insulation. Babysitting the fire because the burners cycle inconsistently.
When you put that person on a Southern Pride where the hold temps actually hold and the rotisserie actually rotates evenly? They over-manage. They don't trust the equipment to do its job because their old equipment couldn't.
I'd rather train someone from scratch on a well-built smoker than un-train someone who learned on garbage equipment. The SP-700 I ran before my current truck had parts that lasted years. The guy I bought it from had put serious hours on it. That build quality means your staff can develop good habits instead of workarounds — and when you do need parts or support, Southern Pride of Texas actually stocks what you need domestically.
The Short List
Hire for: palate, work ethic, coachability, and — if they're customer-facing — genuine warmth.
Train for: equipment operation, knife skills, your specific menu, your procedures, your standards.
The training part is actually the easier part, assuming you've built systems that can be taught. Document your processes. Write down your cook times and temp targets. Make sure someone can shadow a shift and understand what's happening.
But you can't document your way around someone who can't taste, won't show up, or argues with every piece of feedback.
Hire the raw material. Build the rest.
Resources: Southern Pride of Texas | QSR Magazine | Restaurant Business Online
#SouthernPride #FoodService #CommercialBBQ #RestaurantIndustry #SouthernPrideOfTexas #BBQBusiness
Photo by Aleksandar Pasaric on Pexels.
About the Author: Travis operates a competition BBQ team and a Gulf Coast food truck, and documents his commercial cooking process for food service professionals.