Grillin' Time

Spring has supposedly sprung. The trees and plants outside my house still don’t know it, but I sure have noticed a difference in temperature. I like every season of the year, but I must admit that Spring is slightly less favored in my eyes. It’s too muddy for me. When Spring hits and the sun is shining so brightly, I want instant access to hiking trails. Unfortunately, I have to wait until the sun dries up all the slush leftover from winter, which typically takes a couple months or more.
With all of the blossoms and other plants growing, Spring is a beautiful time of year. I am the type of person, though, who wants to interact with nature, not just admire it, and as such I grow impatient during Springtime. Don’t get me wrong; there is plenty to do outside as the earth unthaws, but Spring activities, such as flying kites and planting a garden, are not as adventurous as Summer, Fall and Winter activities can be.
Waiting for hiking trails and campgrounds in the higher mountain areas to open can wear on a person. To avoid going crazy, there is one activity that can help while away the hours: grilling. Number one, grilling food can sometimes make you smell like you’ve been sitting around a campfire, thus cutting down on the campfire craving that mainly men inexplicably experience every year. Number two, grilling gives you an excuse to invite a bunch of people over and enjoy each other’s company as you wait for the shish kebabs to cook. And number three (this is for the women), it gets the man, and sometimes multiple children, out of the house.
Now, I grill all year-round, while most people put their grill in storage from October until April. I’m also a grilling purist, which means I only grill over charcoal. None of that gas stuff for me. Two to three times a week I can be found outside my house staring in a trance at the flames dancing in my grill as they consume the briquettes. I love grilling at night after the flames have died down and the charcoal shimmers, ripples and glows. Sometimes I get the urge to light a bunch of briquettes on fire, even though I don’t have any meat or veggies to cook, just to watch them burn. Fire will never lose its intrigue. Mostly because it’s magic. The modern man is able to allow such a primitive technology as fire to captivate him because it’s like the television: magic.
I’m always looking for new things to grill. I once went to one of those fancy Brazilian restaurants, where they bring spits of meat around to each table and cut you off a slice. Sometimes the waiters brought out boring old meats, like steak, pork and chicken, but every now and again one would bring out something exotic, like rattlesnake or buffalo or chicken hearts. Those Brazilians aren’t afraid to grill anything up. They’ll even tackle fruits and vegetables. Crazy. Ever since eating grilled pineapple at one Brazilian restaurant, I’ve had to grill my own pineapple at home once a month or so. There is nothing like hot pineapple juice dripping down your chin onto your shirt as you sit there and say, “Hot, hot, hot! Oh, oh, oh!”
Besides grilling new foods, I also like to experiment with seasonings. It’s like Chemistry class, except I’m usually pretty sure nothing’s going to blow up unexpectedly. I’m not sure if I should be ashamed that I have more seasonings and spices for grilling in our spice cupboard than my wife has for “indoor” cooking. I’ve recently been using a lot of a seasoning called “Tuscan Blend.” It’s got a nice overall taste as well as a nice little spicy kick. Lately, the spicy kick has helped me forget the pain of not being able to hike up to the top of a mountain in the high Uintahs. Spices have become my whiskey. My wife has woken up many a time in the middle of the night and has had to remove a canister of Tuscan Blend from my hands. Someday, though, Spring will end and Summer will take over with its exciting array of outdoor activities. Until then, I will continue to grill and bide my time.