- Charcoal house invention stage. In this stage, when you are trying to ignite the charcoal, you at some point wonder why they don’t build houses out of charcoal, as obviously they’d never burn down.
- Wood idea stage. In this stage, the charcoal is burning a little, but you think, if I put a little real wood on the barbecue, I might get some nice coals eventually like on that last campfire at orchestra camp where all the other adults thought we (me and the pyro guitar teacher) were going to start a forest fire.
- Ham stage. At this point you realize that grills were obviously not built to hold campfires and that the saying “where there’s smoke there’s fire” is not always true. You hope the neighbors won’t start to yell at you, and you consider things to yell back if they do. You try different methods to increase the flame and decrease the smoke. You go into the house for a beer, and Gamma, who is celebrating her birthday now with relatives (after spending the morning with friends) and having a good time – thanks for all the birthday wishes – asks, “was riecht wie ein Osterschinken?” (What smells like an Easter ham?) and her mother says, “das ist dein Papa.”
- Cooking stage. Guests are here, if you don’t start cooking now nothing will get done in time. Irregular spots of heat, smoke and less heat on the grill but pff. Throw everything on, using those aluminum pan things. A few things get pretty grey from the smoke, but then they get so dark from the heat it’s no longer obvious. Everything tastes okay.
- Eating stage. No one complains.
- Perfect coal stage. At this point, the coals are glowing with an even, hot redness and you wish you had something to throw on there. Instead, you put on the lid and extinguish them.
- Maikaefer stage. In this stage, you put bicycles back into cellar in the dark with older daughter. Trip over lawnmower and do one of those slow motion falls, like a Las Vegas casino being imploded, over a pile of pool toys, boxes of stuffed animals to be discarded, boxes of things that float, things used in the garden and things made of wire into a pile of flower pots, which breaks your fall. Daughter expresses extreme concern. You assure her you’re fine. She asks, Really? You assure her, Yes, really. This goes on for a while until you fight your way back up out of a difficult position. Later, telling the story, she uses the simile, “Papa ist da gelegen wie ein Maikaefer…” (dad was lying there like a stupid, clumsy insect referred to in German as a May bug, which has a hell of a time getting back up if it falls onto its back).
The stages of barbecuing
Posted in Metamorphosism
We grilled this weekend. Petr absolutely could not get his head around the idea that I wanted him to put VEGETABLES on the grill. He ate them, though.
Too bad uncle Phil wasn’t there to add a little prune wood. Glad to see the fire gene still burns strong in you.
nothing like a good blaze.
you mean, “a LOT of prune wood.”