I thought that grilling was a man's job. I mean really, look at history. You (the woman) prepare the meat, prepare the veggies and salad, and set the table. The man builds a symmetrical pyramid of charcoal briquets, lights them afire, and claims credit for the whole dinner.
That's the way things work in my perfect little universe. The moment I lay my manicured nails on a grimy briquet, my he-man should be there to take over, arranging them the way I never could, igniting them to burn with a flame higher than any female could even want.
So where did I go wrong? When I announced grilled salmon for dinner the other night, it was with the complete expectation that DH would rise to the occasion and do the grilling. Apparently, that was not meant to be. I learned a few lessons about how to barbecue and burned all the hair off my right hand, but I wasn't all that attached to it, anyway. The skin sizzled right off the fish, but I managed to turn each filet without too much destruction and the dogs were grateful for the charred fish skin. Dogs are so easy to please.
Tonight, I announced grilled pork chops and corn. I shucked the corn, prepared it with chili and lime zest (ummm); I rubbed the pork chops with special, wonderful seasoning. I built a little pyramid of charcoal briquets, soaked them with lighter fluid and lit them my very own self. Not once did DH come out to make sure I was doing it right and not burning the house down. I totally don't get it. Doesn't he care any more?
I did learn tonight that the little vent thingy on the top of the grill is very important. DH closes it after he grills to extinguish the fire. I leave it open to burn off the crud on the grill. Apparently he closed it up after me the other night (even though he didn't cook). I did not notice this until I took the chops off the grill. Thank the gods of pork chops that there was enough heat in those coals to save us from trichinosis. Of course, I didn't mention to him that I didn't open those vents. I guess that he would have known to check for that. Maybe I will remember next time.
I read an article recently about a woman who was using the same kind of reinforcement on her husband as animal trainers use. I am wondering if DH read that article, too, and decided to turn the tables.
Just wait till I decide to grill ribs. I know he'll have to get involved then. :-)
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4 comments:
Ok Deb so it's not just me then. Because Vinny used to hound me about getting a grill and so we did and how did I become the one to do the grilling? Now he buys the steaks and I slave over the grill. Of course he thanks me because they are delicious but you know I wonder if he notices the singed bangs and half the hair gone off my arms? LOL
Actually when he used to do the grilling, if the fire wasn't burning right, what would he do? What it says NOT to do on the lighter fluid container---he would put lighter fluid right on the fire. I KNOW I KNOW, it's such a guy thing. LOL
Mom could tell you stories about dad and the grill. This also reminds me of a post I should make regarding Vinny, me and our first grill five years ago.
I think that originally, it was the man who cooked the meat, when he wasn't off plundering and pillaging. And it had to have begun with some hairy, smelly Neanderthal dragging home a one ton mammoth and preparing it for the entire clan. The woman's job most likely was to bear the children (with nothing to use for the pain but a leather strap that was placed between her teeth to bite down on; make loincloths from the skins of whatever the man drug home to the cave; and obey the man. It's a miracle that humankind has survived at all under those circumstances. And you are worried about those tiny little hairs on your arm???
ROFL mom, good one!
Larry, as always, you are the voice of wisdom. Why don't I listen to you more often? And Mom, I didn't need those hairs on my arm anyway. At least I don't have to bear any more children in order to have meat to grill. (I can hardly manage the one I've got!)
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