Thrills And Grills

First published April 29, 2005

I'm an excellent cook.

Ok, I'll admit it -  saying that is a lot like Dustin Hoffman's character in Rain Man saying, "I'm an excellent driver." To me, "cooking" is tossing a slab of raw beef on the grill then standing around with a long skinny fork in one hand and a beer in the other. In fact, I view any meal that doesn't involve animal flesh charred over a gas flame to be a near tragedy - better than starvation, but not all that much.

So you can imagine the panic that gripped me not too long ago when I tried to light my trusty old grill, Carl, and his whole front panel fell off. This resulted in a pretty alarming situation, with gas hissing in the air, half of Carl hanging suspended by some wires, and me standing right in the middle of the blast zone holding a platter of raw chicken breasts.
 
This was not the first time Carl had suffered some sort of malfunction. The most interesting incident was the time when, with me beered and forked and Carl fully loaded and blazing away, he broke away from the post he was mounted on, burst into flames and went down like the Hindenburg. Oh, the hamburgers!

For years, after each of the unfortunate Carl mishaps I was able to rally the support of my mechanically-inclined (or hungry) friends to help me patch the old fellow back together. This time, I could see that we had come to the end of the line. As I stood there looking helplessly at the wreckage of my old friend and waiting for the explosion, my wife came out and suggested that I a.) turn off the gas, and b.) go out and buy a new grill.

Have you looked at 21st century barbecue grills? These stainless steel marvels are basically DeLoreans with side-burners. For you younger people, a DeLorean was a car built in the early 1980s that was basically a stainless steel grill with leather seats.

Of course before I went shopping I did the necessary consumer research, asking all the important questions: How many burners do I want? Do I need a rotisserie? How does the cooking area compare with the median acreage of our typical meal? Will I make it completely over the roof of the house if I forget to open the lid before I light the burners? How much room do I have left on my credit card?

Eventually I found the perfect grill. Of course, it's a bit larger than Carl was, in much the same way an aircraft carrier is larger than a jet ski.

Assembly and installation went pretty well. I only had one small bag of parts left over, with a sticker on the front, printed in red ink, that said something like, "CRITICAL!!! You must something, something, something before attempting to something, something!!!"

I almost immediately discovered that I don't quite make it over the roof of the house if I forget to open the lid before I light the burners.

And then at last I found myself standing happily in front of my new pal with my fork and my beer, watching the flames engulf a pork chop. The only remaining problem I have is what to name the big guy.

I'm thinking "Enterprise."

Copyright © 2005 Michael Ball

This silly stuff is all part of What I've Learned So Far...