O beauteous grill. How I love thee. And loathe thee all at the same time.
I used to have a grill. I used it often. Until bees took up residence in it and the gas ran out. It was old and accepted its fate during the slow walk to the curb. “Dead grill walking!” went up the cry from the neighborhood grills, bug zappers and other outdoor appliances.
And I thought it was an okay thing to be without a grill. I worked far from home and didn’t feel like cooking when I got home. I was trying to cut back on meat. I was … foolish and wrong.
I got a new grill a couple of weeks ago. Christened it with burgers and dogs for friends. Then moved onto the freezer full of delicious meat from Omaha Steaks.
Suddenly, it was filet mignon for dinner almost every night. Broken up by the occasional Bubba Burger (35% fat tastes good). It was all done so quickly and so tasty. Sure, I wasn’t eating anything but the protein, but what delicious protein it was. Then I remembered vegetables. And visions of foil packets and kebabs danced in my head.
Alas, I’m headed to DC and Chicago for the rest of the week so the joys of charred vegetables will have to wait for my return. Tonight it’s another Bubba topped with blue cheese (available in convenient slices from Rosenborg) and a glass of Two Buck Chuck Shiraz (thanks, Karl).
Aah. This is the life.
As a bonus, Omaha Steaks come packed in a styrofoam container kept cool with dry ice. Who doesn’t love playing with dry ice? Crazy people, that’s who. When my shipment arrived, there was enough dry ice left to dump into a nearby paint can (empty and dry), add water and relive elementary school science projects and the witch scene from Macbeth.