Monday, July 6, 2015

Good morning crew,

Something happened to me this weekend that has never happened before. I was asked to cook at Cousin Kaz's big Fourth of July party on Saturday.

I have been going to that party for, oh, as long as I can remember, and never once have I ever been asked to cook. That is a responsibility that has always been reserved for the older, more experienced generation.

Granted, nobody is going to ask a 10-year-old to help on the grill, but over the past few decades I have honed my skills on a thousand or so of my own barbecues, so I felt fully prepared at assume this important task.

Now, considering the number of people at this party and the variety of foods being prepared, Cousin Kaz has 2 grills. One is an 8 burner, commercial grade, stainless steel, monstrosity fueled by two 20-pound propane tanks.

The other is a fairly commonplace, kettle grill that you fill with charcoal.

I was determined to do this job right, and as everybody knows preparation is half the work, so I approached the gas grill and began scrubbing and polishing it. Then I rubbed the cooking grates down with olive oil and turned the burners on to let it season and sterilize a bit.

While that was warming up I turned my attention to the charcoal grill which, as everybody knows, takes a bit more work to get prepared. Not only does the grill need to be scrubbed and cleaned but the briquettes need to be carefully stacked, soaked with fuel, lit, and then carefully nurtured with blowing and fanning until a self-sustaining heat profile is established which allows the coals to spread evenly without loss of cooking temperature.

So there I was, bent over the charcoal grill, huffing, blowing and stacking, when my brother Nino walked up and said, "What's going on? Haven't you started yet?" Whereupon he put on an apron, kicked open the food cooler sitting next to the gas grill and began laying food on.

Next, Cousin Kaz walked over and began making micro-adjustments to the burner settings and the gas valves while offering constructive criticisms about turning the kababs. Soon my sister Loretta popped into the picture, and picking up a pair of tongs she began on the hamburgers and sausages.

Meanwhile, red-faced and slightly hyperventilating, I finally got the charcoal grill hot and ready to cook. But by that time I had completely lost the initiative. There were already three people jockeying for position on the big grill cooking kababs, Polish sausages, Italian sausages, hamburgers and cheeseburgers...while I stood at the kiddy grill and made hotdogs.

Laugh it up,

Joe

joe@gophercentral.com

P.S. Did you miss an issue? You can read every issue from the Gophercentral library of newsletters on our exhaustive archives page. Thousands of issues, all of your favorite publications in chronological order. You can read AND comment. Just click GopherArchives

***
"I think all these storms are God's way of sending us a message. I think that message is that when warm humid air masses surge northward from the Gulf of Mexico and combine with a strong jet stream, it can result in severe weather conditions." -Jimmy Kimmel

***
"A restaurant here in New York is serving a grilled cheese-flavored martini. Or as parents put it, 'Finally, a way to get my kids to finish their martinis.'" -Jimmy Fallon

***
"A newly released email reveals that Hillary Clinton said to a co-worker, 'I heard on the radio there's a cabinet meeting. Can I go?' In another email she said she found out about the debt ceiling from Smooth Jazz 94.7." -Conan O'Brien

***
Shortly before our 25th wedding anniversary, my husband sent 25 long-stemmed yellow roses to me at my office. A few days later, I plucked all the petals and dried them. On the night of our anniversary, I spread the petals over the bed and lay on top of them, wearing only a negligee.

As I hoped, I got a reaction from my husband.

When he saw me he shouted, "What are potato chips doing all over the bed!?"


*-------------- Guaranteed to Roll Your Eyes --------------*
One friend complained to another, "All my husband and I do anymore is fight. I've been so upset, I've lost 20 pounds."

"If it's that bad, why don't you just leave him?" asked the second friend.

"I'm seriously considering it, but I'd like to lose another 15 pounds first."