The Adventure Begins
So the adventure begins. Well let’s be real, the journey began years ago when I got my first propane 3 burner. It was a cheap Kenmore with rotisserie and infrared burner. Probably a combined total of 5 BTU’s tops.
Yes, I certainly stepped into manhood that day at the young age of what….32? 33? Now in my own defense, I lived out of boxes for many years while in the Navy and I did not have many personal possessions. Ah….the ol’ air mattress for a bed, and a cardboard box for a nightstand. Later I would upgrade to a ironing board that would multi-task as a TV stand, computer desk, dining room table, and….ironing board. Sheesh…what else would it be? Oh ya, and that cardboard box would double as a shipping container for that good ol’ trusty air mattress. That’s right, boys and girls, I’m a thinkin’ man!
Back to the grill; There were good eats…
Some….
Ok fine. In general it was just mediocre food that was definitely edible but lacked in quality and consistency. There was definitely no restaurant quality happening here. No siree bob. Just….blah. But ANYTHING cooked in smoke and fire makes up for any lack of culinary skill, right?
Who are we kidding, boys and girls. We think we are the king of the backyard BBQ, the Daddy-O-Beef, the Sister of the Sizzle, but in reality we kinda suck at grilling. We conjure up steaks that are charred instead of carmelized, but it’s better when its black as coal right? It’s not a steak if it doesn’t have the same texture as a burnt Cheeto. Go on telling yourself those lies, ‘o Looser of the Lame BBQ.
Back to the story…one day it happened. You’ve all heard it. Those larks of the heavens. Those angels that sing sweet songs in your ears as the light rains down from a parted cloud. (No I’m not talking about “Mecca”….a select few know that reference) I’m talking about those grilling angels that lead us down the path of righteousness. Stop and listen for a second. Don’t tell me you don’t hear them. We all can. On this day in particular, the angels told me to buy a Weber Jumbo Joe.
Charcoal was the new game in town. Constant battles were waged with temperature control. I am talking war wounds and severe PTSD people! But there was a lot of learning taking place. The quality of eats slowly began to climb. The amount of understanding nods increased from my wife as she bit into new experiments on a weekly basis. It was a nod of deep meaning, a silent “well played, sir; well played.”
That Jumbo Joe sits on the deck today. It is at this point, like William Penn in Philly, engulfed by the towering structures that surround it. These are the structures of smokers, ceramic eggs, kettles, and a dog that absolutely must be a daddy’s feet when the grill equipment comes out of the kitchen. That Jumbo Joe is my monolith. It will forever be the symbol that started this journey.