In the 90+ degree Baton Rouge heat yesterday, I put together my new, hot, black, heavy, iron, bruise-inducing charcoal grill, a magnificent item produced by these fine folks. I am not handy with tools. Yes, I did hurt myself. But it was all worth it, for today I will be slapping some big-ass steaks on this mofo. Mmmmmm. Dead cow.
Now a lot of folks like propane. Cleaner and more efficient. A POX on cleaner and more efficient. I want ash and smoke and sweat and a general feeling that there has perhaps been some sort of air-strike. I want to be a sweaty, charcoal-smeared mess by the time those steaks are ready. I will be drinking beer so cold it will make my teeth hurt. I GRILL! I AM MAN!
And maybe a nice salad to go with it.