Thursday, May 25, 2006

Boy Meets Grill

There's something about guys and barbecues. I know it seems like a tired comedy routine - but it's true. Men like fire. Actually, men like being in control of an unruly, untamed wild thing that has the potential to harm. And since most residential bylaws prohibit having tigers as pets (AND there's only one Liza Minelli to go around), fire is a reasonable alternative.

Our pet fire is on the balcony. And we have a teeny balcony. It could fit a full-sized barbecue but there'd be no room for people, unless you devised a pulley-and-harness system to lower you down over the grill within hovering distance. Rather than go the pulley route, on one of our recent rainy weekends we bought a mini barbecue. We call it (wait for it) the baby-cue (I know, I know - pee-yook!) Anyway, it's one of those mini propane-fueled jobbies like you might bring camping. The day the babycue came home, Corn's long-dormant, instinctual pull toward fire was awakened. He wanted to grill so desperately that he hunched out on the balcony in the wind and rain (I snapped the photo from behind the door. I ain't no chump).

I must admit though, I'm falling victim to the grill myself. We've started watching the Food Network intensely. We salivated through the hour-long "Best Burger in America" contest and I don't even EAT burgers. Our lives are currently consumed with getting the perfect crosshatch grill marks. I may even try to duplicate the look on the beach this summer (which means I'll have to more than quadruple the recipe for a side serving of mango chutney, but these are the sacrifices you make).

So, now we embark on a long, hot summer of grilling. It's not like we can invite our friends over for a backyard party. Even if we could, we couldn't put more than 4 items on the grill surface at a time. But, for now - the babycue is a good place to start. Y'know, work out the kinks and practice.

Today, the babycue. Tomorrow, the world.


Maria said...

I notice the same thing with my husband and the BBQ. I can make an entire feast to feed an army, equipped with appetizers, soup, salad, potatoes/rice,veggies, veal roast and home made dessert and yet my darling husband will tell our friends that he COOKED because he BBQued a few ribs and chicken. Does this make any sense? lol

I still love him more than anything though and if he thinks he cooked than who am I to burst his bubble?

Happy Weekend to everybody I can't wait to get out of work today... possibly because the weekend is looking beauuuutiful!

JB said...

There's a guy on The Food Network who does a show called "License To Grill". Mind you, he has three or four of the most beautiful barbecues you've ever seen in your friggin' LIFE, but he does good stuff. Fun job, that would be, eh? Barbecuin' on the TeeVee?

JB said...

Nat, thanks for adding my blog as a link on your page here. Once I figure out how to do that, I will add you as a link on mine.

MY address/url has been changed, though, so the link you have listed won't work anymore.
The new link is:

Happy Motoring!