Grill Master

20060510-bbq1.gifBryna sent me out to grill hamburgers tonight. I don’t mind grilling; like most red-blooded and red meat-loving American men I cut a dashing figure holding a set of tongs.  I’m just not that good at it. Especially when it’s dark. That’s the thing about winter grilling, you can’t see a thing. Which adds a certain degree of difficulty for the grilling challenged. So I was out there tonight with a flashlight trying to cook the perfect burger using the braille method. It wasn’t pretty. On the plus side, no one at our house was picking up salmonella poisoning. Unfortunately we basically ate shoe leather on a bun. 

Whenever we invite friends over for a barbecue, I graciously and confidently ask how they like their burgers. “Rare? Medium well? Burnt to a crisp?” But it doesn’t really matter what they tell me. They get it the way it comes off the grill. Let me take this opportunity to apologize to all of my past and future guests. Why don’t we just order in Thai next time?

I do own a copy of The Barbecue Bible which I consult from time to time. Though it’s more intimidating than anything else. If I can’t pronounce the name of the sauce, what makes you think I’d be able to grill the mahi mahi correctly? The best thing about The Barbecue Bible is its name. I love any book with “Bible” in the title: The Cake Bible, The Bible of Makeup Application (no, I don’t own this), The Fisherman’s Bible, etc. If I ever wrote a commentary on the Bible I’d call it the Bible Bible. But I’m babbling.


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