I love my grill.
Admittedly, this statement coming from an American male is about as shocking as saying, "When it comes to breathing, I lean toward air." But there it is - I'm a dedicated "grill guy."
This is not a new thing. In prehistoric times, a typical Hunter-Gatherer might come home from a hard day's H&G-ing, dragging, let's say, a wooly mammoth. Right away, his wife would want to chop it up, dump cream of mushroom soup on it, cover it with those nasty little onion rings, and make it into a casserole.
Now anybody who knows about casseroles can tell you that this is a lady's dish, maybe just the thing for her bridge club or cave-painting group, but not really what a guy wants to sink his teeth into after a hard day of cleaning wooly mammoth guts off his spear. So our ancestor would take his catch outside, fire up an acre or two of savannah, and broil himself a mess of real big steaks.
Over the course of millions of years of evolution, this routine has become imprinted right into our genetic code. Researchers at the prestigious Ann Arbor Institute for Explaining Guy Stuff To Your Wife recently identified an area on the "Y" chromosome that they call the "Open Pit" gene. In experiments involving splicing this gene into lab mice, they discovered that unless you allow the genetically-altered little fellows to go out in the back yard to sear their tiny bratwursts, they soon lose the will to live.
But history and genetics aside, we men have to realize that it is our fatherly duty to pass on to our sons the lore of the grill. Imagine the tragedy of a generation of young men who don't know how to singe their eyebrows in a grease fire while they drink beer and discuss lawn care products.
So, while a truly comprehensive set of grilling dos-and-don'ts would be beyond the scope of this column, since that would require me to do some actual research, here are a few major things that every young man should know.
First, pick a grill with lots of heating power. The standard unit of heat for a grill is the BTU (Burns Things Up). One BTU is computed as a fraction of the amount of heat it takes to turn an average hamburger into a charcoal briquette. As with most things in a man's life, bigger automatically means better, so you'll want a grill that will produce as many BTUs as you can afford. Rich guys have grills that will melt titanium.
Speaking of charcoal briquettes, there are a few die-hards out there who still believe in cooking over charcoal, instead of gas. The down side of these old-style grills is that you have to haul charcoal, light it, wait for it to reach the right temperature, and clean out the ashes when you're finished. The up side is that you get the fun of playing with charcoal lighter fluid (experts strongly discourage lighting your charcoal with "unauthorized" substances like gasoline or napalm).
All in all, I'd stick with propane or natural gas.
Here in the twenty-first century, you want your grill to display as much stainless steel as possible. I have no idea how this would benefit your cooking, but it should really impress your friends. It might even make the grill itself last longer, although considering the inevitable propane or natural gas explosions you're bound to be setting off, that's probably a moot point.
Finally, you need to develop a little grill-guy showmanship. For example, if your pork chop catches on fire and you dump your beer on it, you will not only put out the fire, but as an added bonus you get to immediately go and grab yourself a new, much colder beer. But always tell your friends that they just witnessed your "secret family recipe," and swear them to silence.
Never use an actual recipe, though, secret family or otherwise. You may consider this the Prime Directive of grill-guy cooking. If your repertoire is any more complicated than dumping in some seasoned salt and an occasional beer - well, you might as well be making a casserole.
Ugh!
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Comments: 11
Thanks for making me smile. A lot.
Now I understand
Great humor, I will print this for my grill master son.
Linda, when it comes to cooking, we men just jnaturally heed the Call of the Wild - as long as the Wild provides shade, a beer-fridge, and an adequate gas hook-up.
Cena, in the next month or so I may explore other facets of male genetics - watch this space...
Clare, that shine you mention is hopefully not coming from a flaming "Kiss Me, I'm The Cook" apron.
Cat, today won't work out - we're going away for the afternoon and evening (to a cookout...)
Thanks for the good words. I'm glad you all enjoyed this.
- mike
Donna, that's the "James Bond" school of grillage (shaken, not stirred). I'm guessing you're cooking something a little more sophisticated than brats and onions.
- mike
http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.jsp?articleId=281474976769850
- mike