The Irishman’s birthday present this year was a grill. A gorgeous, TRU-technology (whatever that means) stainless steel gas grill.
If that isn’t the stereotypical “man gift,” I don’t know what is. This grill has taken center stage in our house over the last week as we have been grilling, well, everything. Steaks? Check. Pork chops? Check. Souvlaki? Check. Cod? Check. Portabellos, tomatoes, onions, pineapple? Check, check, check.
There is something fundamentally intimate about the way a man feels about his grill. The Irishman has taken exclusive command of the grill and has lovingly and meticulously cooked every morsel of food that has touched it’s glossy, stainless surface. After the cooking is done, he cleans the grates immediately and then dries them thoroughly before putting the grill to sleep (complete with a protective cover).
A wonderful unintended side effect of the grilling operation is that we have FINALLY (after 2 years) started eating our meals on the deck. I have no idea what’s taken us this long to eat out there since we certainly do enough coffee drinking and sun tanning on the deck, but for 4 meals in a row, we’ve sat in the nature’s lap and basked in our fruitful, grilled bounty.
Now if only we had hunted the food ourselves, our transition to mountain living would have been complete.