So I bought a grill recently. It is one of those Weber kettle grills. You know, the classic egg-shaped grill. I've wanted a grill for quite a while, but never bought one for fear that owning one would mean having to move it (and I move
often). The desire for fire finally won out.
The exact moment my impulse to grill struck me is somewhat significant, from a narrative perspective. It was near sunset, and I
had to grill. With unwavering purpose I sped off to Walmart where I quickly assessed the selection of grills and made my decision. I then spent no fewer than 10 minutes comparing charcoal brands. I opted for the wood charcoal (which burns faster and hotter), picked up some lighter fluid, grabbed some grilling utensils and headed out. I was losing light fast. As soon as I walked in the door, I opened the box and assembled the grill. This procedure was completed in 15 minutes, 30 minutes quicker than the instructions anticipate.
Grilling Adventure 1 (Chicken thighs)
Once assembled, I put a small amount of charcoal in the grill, a ton of lighter fluid and set 'er ablaze. Fire went out. Repeat. Fire out. The damn thing would not light. Finally I got the thing going. By this time it was dusk and quickly getting dark. The coals were just barely going, but I was hungry, so I threw the chicken on anyway and closed the lid (vents open).
45 minutes later...
Coals are barely going still. I would later figure out that opening the lower vents would help not only to get the thing lighted, but to keep it aflame.The chicken is still not done. I resign. Chicken comes off the grill to be finished on the stove. Grill 1, Me 0.
Grilling Adventure 2 (Lamb chunks)
A couple days later I decide to give it another go. After trimming a leg of lamb to make Georgian mcvadi, I was left with some lamb scraps. Not to repeat my previous mistake, I opened all the vents and filled the kettle with charcoal. I lighted it using 4 or 5 pages of crumpled up CV, and a ton of lighter fluid. The smoke probably could have been seen miles away. Once the smoke subsided and the coal began to do their thing, it became clear that I had used too much charcoal. I figured this out when I could not even approach the grill because it was giving off so much heat.
30 minutes later...
The grill is finally approachable. Lamb turns out delicious. I've grilled twice since this event and I'm still using the left over coals.
In the end, I bested the grill, tamed its inferno, and became a man–a man with a spatula in one hand and sizzling plate of chargrilled meat in the other.
After encrusting one side using natural wood charcoal, I flipped the slain beast and dumped chopped shallots soaked in olive oil on it, attempting to recreate the mode of preparation at my favorite restaurant Cafe Rabelais.
A few more minutes and I removed the perfect medium rare steak from the grill and allowed it to sit for 5 minutes whilst I finished preparing the steamed broccoli that would accompany the meat.
Below is the final result. See those black specks? No, not the black pepper. See the big specks? Those are sliced French black truffles. A healthy dollop of truffle butter on the broccoli and beef crowned this fabulous meal.
So don't let a little rain deter you from your plans to grill. Find an awning, and be careful not to set the house on fire.
This is the first (confusing) piece of Cajun culture I encountered. Well, may be it isn't Cajun, but let's assume it is for the sake of narrative coherence. This picture was taken next to a Chik-fil-a near Gulfport, Mississippi. Stop, enter, do not enter. I was able to appreciate the indecision represented by these signs when I saw there was a 5 Guys burger joint behind me. Chicken or Beef? Waffle fries, or fresh cut potato fries? My decision was easily made when I realized that 5 Guys would not open for another 45 minutes. I decided to stop there on the way back from the bayou the next day.
These here's some mudbugs prior to cooking. They were not happy in their cramped quarters.
This was an especially feisty one whom I promised, as a last request, a flattering picture on Neither Here Nor There. Comparing him to the humans behind him, you can see that this crawfish was roughly the size of a grown man and had an armspan of roughly 15 feet.
This here's what 'dems look like post-genocide, after being boiled alive. Red and happy, just like Uncle Jim-Bob after a pint of moonshine.
This is Bayou-dog. A filthy cur who later attacked me. I may or may not have stepped on him to provoke this aggression. I think he wanted this:
These are the sad remains of the crawfish I ate. They kind of look like cicada shells. They also look like little lobsters. I recommend going down to the bayou and pickin' up yourself some of these nummies.
The boy was new to the grill and grilling Din-din, so when he cut into Din-din, he discovered that the meat was way undercooked. The boy with the grill likes his meat rare, but his carnivorous appetite was no match for the squishy pink rare flesh of Din-din. So, Din-din went back on the grill and became this nicely colored still rare piece of meat:
