The Way of the Barbie

Yesterday the sun was shining, the sky was blue and I was seized by an uncanny urge to buy a barbeque, so I did. Refusing to tell Courtney what was up I ushered her into the car and drove to a hardware shop in the town centre.
“Where are we going?” she asked, “I’m so confused.”
I did not reply. I just grinned and let her figure out what was up.

In the event, Courtney was just as excited as me to be buying a barbeque. We settled for a circular charcoal grill with three legs, two wheels, vents on the bottom and a round top. We bought metal skewers, a barbeque spatula, a metal cleaning brush, a bag of charcoal and a bottle of lighter fluid and returned home well pleased.

I have a theory for why Brits are supposedly so bad at barbeques, and of course it has to do with the weather. The weather and our natural pessimism, to be precise. Not trusting our few rainless summer days to stay dry we rush at the barbeque headlong before the heavens open and dilute the Pimm’s and lemonade. Rather than waiting the proper time for the charcoal to grey and collapse into an even bed of warmth, we throw everything into the flames, charring the outsides and leaving the insides pink. What we all need is to spend one summer in a hot place where we can barbeque at our leisure with no fear of precipitation. Then we would learn the patience of the true grill master. We would know the correct pace. We would know by the direction of the breeze and the taste of the air whether the weather permits.

Of course, this is California and the weather permits more often than not. We bought sausages; I made burgers with bits of onion and Jamaican jerk seasoning, and marinated chicken for shish kebabs. We called Shrimpy round to help us eat. The fire was glorious. Courtney took a picture of the fiery coals as we fanned them.

Click here for a larger version of this picture.

The chicken kebabs were, I think, the highlight of the evening. In the hour or two I let them sit they took on all of the spicy piquancy of the simple marinade. We ate them with plain boiled rice. I only have a picture taken before cooking, because when they were done we were too busy eating to be bothered with the camera.

Here’s the marinade:

1 clove garlic, crushed
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
75mls/5 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon tomato puree

Chop two whole breasts into decent sized chunks and marinade for an hour or two. Chop a small red onion into wedges, chop a red and a green bell pepper into decent pieces, and halve and chop a courgette (aka zucchini). You should have enough for six large skewers. Metal skewers are much better for this than wooden ones as they conduct heat through the middle of the pieces of meat, the pieces of meat and veg come off easier, and they don’t burn. Assemble the kebabs and brush the excess marinade over them.

I am convinced that fire is capable of expanding periods of time in the human mind. It felt as if we spent a long happy evening on the balcony tending to the fire, cooking our food and drinking good booze, but by the time we were done it was only a relatively tame 10pm.