Aussie-turned-Texan and live-fire cook Jess Pryles opens up about staying true to herself, following her dreams, and where NOT to get good barbecue.
One fateful day in 2015, an Australian tasted Texas barbecue for the first time. A decade later, Jess Pryles is a resident Austinite known throughout Texas as an authority on all things meat.
After falling in love with Western culture and cuisine, Pryles left her life in Melbourne to learn everything she could about the art and science of cooking meat over a live fire. She documented her findings on her blog and social media, quickly gaining a large following of fellow carnivores, who fell in love with her endless charm and extensive meat knowledge. Sensing a need for community among other female chefs and live-fire cooks, Pryles established her official brand, Hardcore Carnivore, as a testament to her love for learning, cooking, and connecting with others.
The meat master is on a roll, gearing up to release the second season of her TV show, also called Hardcore Carnivore, on the Outdoor Channel. When she’s not hunting, butchering, and exploring the West on her series, she’s judging cooking competitions across the world, writing cookbooks full of innovative recipes, teaching live-fire cooking classes, creating and selling innovative rubs and seasonings, and reaching new audiences through her social media videos.
But success is always a double-edged sword. Pryles spoke candidly about her journey navigating the changing scope of social media and keeping her sights on the road ahead as challenges come her way. She also dropped tons of truth bombs and expert advice for those who love to eat and cook meat the Texas way.
Check out Pryles’ truth bombs on the latest episode of C&I’s Women of the West podcast below.
Being a woman in a male-dominated field is fine (if you’re at the top of your game).
It’s no secret that Jess Pryles is a minority in her industry — she is one of the few women who are prominent in the live-fire cooking world. Pryles is quick to point out the irony in this gender discrepancy: “You know what I always thought was weird? In the West, we revere Grandma’s cookbook — these treasured items that have these hallmark recipes in them. We respect women’s space in the kitchen so much, but not outside. We’ve already normalized women being wonderful cooks. Let’s just see it in more of a professional and live-fire context.”
As far as her own experience, she counts herself lucky for the acceptance she’s experienced, but she understands that it is all contingent on how hard she’s worked to get where she is. “One of the questions I always get asked is ‘What is it like being a woman in this male-dominated field?’ The reality is that it’s not been an issue for me. People have been very welcoming. But I’ve also worked my ass off to become an expert in my field. I believe that I’m here because I’ve worked really hard to be good at what I do, not because of anything else. I think I deserve to be at the table.”
Balancing authenticity and professionalism on social media is nearly impossible (and necessary).
Pryles has been navigating the treacherous terrain of social media for years, joining Instagram in its early stages and watching it evolve over time. “When I started, Instagram was just square tiles and photos, and it was about photography and art. I enjoyed photography and food styling, so that’s what I leaned into. I never posted photos of myself because I did not want my page to be about what I looked like. I wanted to be respected for my cooking and knowledge,” she says.
But, as the platform grew and shifted, Pryles noticed that vibrant personalities like hers were being overlooked in favor of glossier, more uniform content. “We’ve seen this shift to edu-tainment — the soothing serotonin of scrolling, the ASMR of a flat voice. We’re getting away from different personalities that are doing things differently because the algorithm just won’t let you find those people,” she says. Despite the changing landscape, Pryles sticks to what she loves: “I like creating content that serves a purpose. I like creating educational content. I like creating recipes that will help people.”
Meat cooking is all a matter of personal preference (and all preferences are valid).
In a world where ordering a steak well-done can make you the laughingstock of the dinner table, Pryles isn’t quick to judge people’s personal meat preferences. “I know what I like and I cook for what I like, and I think that I share a palate with a lot of other people. But, my cooking is not necessarily designed to be accepted by a lot of people.” Pryles operates off of the notion that eating what tastes best to you is more important than trying to order the menu item that will give you the most clout: “I definitely try not to judge too much. I don’t love when people cook their steak well-done, but as long as they eat the whole thing, then it’s not a waste.”
Brisket isn’t really all that (and definitely not the best family meal).
While brisket has been lauded for how impressive it is to cook correctly, Pryles advises that it may not be the most practical family meal. “I don’t cook brisket that often anymore. I don’t think it’s practical for a lot of people’s homes. If you want to eat it when you’re at a barbecue joint, that’s fine. I think there are better choices you could make to feed people en masse that are easier for you to do at home.”
Here is the best Fort Worth barbecue joint (and the worst).
Fort Worth is arguably one of the best cities for classic Texas barbecue, and few people have explored it as extensively as Pryles. C&I challenged the meat expert to choose among three of the city’s most popular barbecue menu items: Heim Barbecue bacon burnt ends, Panther City Barbecue brisket elotes, and Joe Riscky’s sausage slammers. It was a tough call, but Pryles made it: “I love them all, but I’m going to have to go for Panther City, just because I love Ernie [Morales] and Chris [Magallanes] so much. They’ve often been the top performing barbecue joint for me over and over again.”
As far as where NOT to go for good Fort Worth barbecue, Pryles advises, “Just don’t eat barbecue in the Stockyards.”
PHOTOGRAPHY: Scott Slusher/Courtesy of Jess Pryles
