Friday, April 9, 2010

BBQ Rules

BBQ Rules

We are about to enter the BBQ season. Therefore it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this sublime outdoor cooking activity. When a man volunteers to do the BBQ, the following chain of events are put into motion:

1. The woman buys the food.
2. The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes dessert.
3. The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill - beer in hand.
4. The woman remains outside the compulsory three meter exclusion zone where the exuberance of testosterone and other manly bonding activities can take place without the interference of the woman.

Here comes the important part:

More routine...
6. The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery.
7. The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is looking great. He thanks her and asks if she will bring another beer while he flips the meat.

Important again:

More routine...
9. The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces, and brings them to the table.
10. After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.

And most important of all:
11. Everyone PRAISES the MAN and THANKS HIM for his cooking efforts.
12. The man asks the woman how she enjoyed her night off and, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there's just no pleasing some women.

UPDATE: No, this is not our barbecue, LOL.


  1. So is that your grill there? :-)

  2. HAHAHAHA!! Yeah, you've got it down pat!

    We're shoveling the snow out of the side yard so we can get to the grill quicker.

    I'm also itching to do more with our Orion Cooker (like a Dutch Oven on steroids) besides turkeys.

    Mmmmmm - I can smell those ribs now....

    Steve Davis
    Anchorage, Alaska

  3. I have to admit I laughed out loud at this one! As I was reading I was looking for something to refute, but darn if I could find one. Every word is true (from the wife's point of view).

    Only thing I might add, in my defense anyway, is that for the man (me) to barbecue I have to:

    Make sure I have gas and oil for the chainsaw.

    Clean up the spilled gas and oil. Try to get as much off of me as possible.

    Sharpen the chainsaw.

    Don my chainsaw rig -- chaps, helmet, ear & eye protection, gloves.

    Go out into the woods and find a nice chunk of downed, seasoned oak that's just begging to be cut up for the barbecue.

    Cut it up and haul it to the woodcutting area.

    Grab a maul and split it into barbecue-sized pieces.

    Haul everything back to the barbecue area.

    Tramp into the house with muddy boots, shedding sawdust and other forest detritus, to ask the wife if she would like me to prepare the meat. The usual answer: "Heck no, get outta here!"

    On the way out from beating a hasty retreat, I grab the bottle of dishwashing soap off the counter.

    I find the wire brush scrubber from wherever I last used it and haul all the cleanable barbecue parts over to the hose to scrape off the dirty, grimy, blackened pieces of chicken, tri-tip, or salmon from our last barbecue.

    Then I traipse back into the house to return the bottle of dishwasher soap (something I admit I don't always remember to do.) While there I ask if she wants me to help with fixing the chicken. She takes one look at me, now up to my elbows in black, greasy gunk, and points to the door.

    OK. Got the wood. The barbecue is clean. Now it's time to start the fire. Involves a lot of newspaper, kindling, blowing. Smoke saturates my clothes and hair.

    Finally, the fire is going good and settles into the coals that I need for "barbecue mode."

    Back to the kitchen to check with the wife to see if the chicken is ready. She takes one look, sniffs, and says, "I'll bring it out to you."

    The chicken is on. Fire's doing OK. Coals are good.

    Whoops! Gotta run get the hose to put out an ember that popped out of the fire. Extreme forest fire danger where we live, you know.

    Oh, oh. Hot spot in the coals! Chicken's burning. Quick to rearrange the coals. Singe hair on arm. Burning hair smells bad.

    Finally, I announce to the wife that the chicken is done. She says, "Go ahead and bring it in. We're ready."

    I bring in the platter of chicken. The family and our company looks at me like I'm from another planet, and all want to crowd over to the other side of the table from me.

    But, hey, all I did was sit in my lawn chair and drink beer while the ladies did all the work. ;-)

    Truthfully? It's all fun. I love it. Viva la difference!


  4. Hee-hee-hee! We just had steak tonight. DH did a great BBQ job.

  5. My wife and I both laughed at that one! I usually have a special seasoning (as most of us manly chefs do)to rub into the meat before cooking. I guess I could relegate that to Honey Bunches as well. Nah, meat is the mans job in BBQ! HA HA!

  6. Now that was funny! What a neat grill that guy made. I'm jealous. Dave is a funny guy too. I wanted to mention that I enjoyed your tax rant on WND for April 10 as well. Take Care

  7. Somehow, Dave's rendition reminded me of that "How to pill a cat"

  8. I'm jealous of Dave! I love Tri-tip, but no one here knows what it is. Apparently, that cut of meat doesn't exist east of the Rockies.