What is it with men and barbecue?
The advertisement for this high-tech grill says "cook like a caveman." Fucking hell...cavemen had gas grills??
Anyhoo...Being an "eat to live" person, as opposed to a "live to eat" person, it doesn't much matter to me what I eat, or where/how it was cooked, so long as it never clucked, mooed, or oinked. (My reasons for this are varied, and unwavering, so don't fucking get all uppity in the comments about being 'top of the food chain,' or any other arguments for why I SHOULD eat landwalkers. I'm not preaching to you, you don't preach to me, you eat what you want, I don't give a rat's arse. Okay? Okay.) I can cook, I'm getting good at it...and getting creative about feeding a carnivore husband well enough that he doesn't complain about lack of flesh in my culinary creations.
But when it's his turn to cook, he will invariably regress a few thousand generations and ugg out a war cry of "OUTSIDE!!!! GRILL!!!! MEEEEAAAAAATTTTT!!!!"
Why is that? I've never met an owner of the Y chromosome who didn't absolutely LOVE barbecuing, the whole thing: the placement of charcoals, the lighting of the fire, the watching of the fire for a half hour or more until it's "ready," and the sizzle of steak-sauce- or barbecue-sauce-marinated flesh, the turning of the meat, the game of putting cooked items to the side whilst charring the shit out of whatever is in the middle. And in our case, that last few minutes while my boca burger (the breaded "chick'n patties" are very good too) and veggie packet gets a last blast of heat while the meat 'rests.'
Sure, it's great. Gets me out of cooking, tastes good, all that.
But...why the thrill? Why so excited to cook outside, as opposed to a big vat of pasta with a rocking sauce? Makes no diference at all to me. Food is food.
Fellas?
posted by Andraste at 6:34 PM
8 Comments:
This is not the offal talking, it's just that I would like to say that life without foie gras is not worth living. In fact, even life witohut liver pate is pretty unimaginably drab. Good for you, tho', with your halibut and radishes.
I am a man filled with such compassion that I forfeit my massive desire to bbq by allowing my male friends to do so - my sacrifice a trifle to compare with their happiness. Regrettably, this means I have to sit around and get utterly shitfaced while being fed. It's a hard life for a boy sometimes A-girl.
S- I kinda miss pate, myself. Don't gag, but there are veggie alternatives that'll do in a pinch.
Brewski - you suffer for your art, wha'?
Brewski, I disagree.... standing over the bbq has always enabled me to a) get the best food. b) get all my alcohol brought to me, usually by more than one person at a time creating a backlog that I am more than happy to tackle. c) meet everyone at the party without having to move around. d) you can exact revenge on cunts who are boring you by feeding them badlycooked chicken, or that sausage that the cat mauled.
Andraste... it's not being outside. It is that one four letter word - FIRE! It inspires demonic cackles from many a man...
Having said that I'm perfectly at home in the kitchen. I quite enjoy my culinary escapades...
Binty, so right. I was contemplating editing the post to include FIRE!!! in the 'war cry of the male of the species.'
I must be gay or something. I prefer to eat the food, not cook it.
Yeah, I have to agree with Binty on this one - it's definitely the chance to play with fire that's the fun part.
Goes right back to childhood when I chided for playing with matches.
I love to BBQ. A beer and a fire to poke a stick at. I guess it gives me the callof the wild. Being veggie means I have to come up with other stuff to cook but I don't mind that. I'd BBQ bread if i had to!
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