BBQ, Freedom, Short Checkout Lines, Only One of These is Good for You...
A couple of my kids are pretty good with the barbeque smoker. They own some pretty fancy equipment and spice the meat up good like I like and cook it tender so it's easy for my old teeth to chew. There will probably be other posts how they make things easier for me the older I will get.
My own smoker, a home made rig that costs me maybe about $240 more years ago than I can recall has rusted out and just doesn't hardly draw well enough to get a good fire lit. One of those things I am kind of anal about when it comes to cooking is being able to say what time the food will be done. Struggling with the fire made my gill time unreliable. Another one of my kids, in upgrading their outdoor cooking gear gave me this modest gas grill because of my grilling struggles.
I don't go to Walmart so I have not seen the very cheapest stuff but I have gathered that you can spend just about what you want for a BBQ grill. You can get charcoal, gas, or electric. It can have an app on your phone that gives detailed info on how the meat is doing while you are doing something else there by serving also as a leisure time multiplier.
This is pretty simple compared to all that. It might not be what I would chose myself but the price was right. After all, getting everything you want is kind of like freedom or too short a line at the checkout counter. Too much of that can't be good for you.
This non fancy grill makes me think of New Orleans trumpet player Kermit Ruffin's BBQ recipe. Spice up the meat, put on the grill, listen to all your Louie Armstrong records, turn meat, listen to all Louie Armstrong records again and it's done. I think Kermit has a beer drinking component to this method but I don't drink.
So far I have cooked Mexican Roadside Chicken (I see this becoming a staple around here) hamburgers, wieners and Zumo's. All have been perfect.
I think it was singer song writer Chris Whitely who said "lose what is useless." That would be a cell phone app connected to you BBQ. I'll hang on the the Louie Armstrong records.
Labels: meat, New Orleans
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