There are a lot of ways guys bond. Fixing up an old car. Watching a baseball game. Working in the wood shop. I even recall a few years back when ritual drumming was in the press. Guys would gather in tribal fashion around a fire, and through drumming and chanting, connect with their inner male and with each other.
In my family, we men have our own fire ritual. But this one takes place on a backyard patio around the open flames of a propane barbecue. That's right, we're into ritual grilling. Not as tribal as drumming, but equally effective... and delicious, too.
It was handed down to me by my father-in-law. His favorite thing was to rotisserie a whole turkey. First, like a boxing trainer, he'd give the bird a rubdown with Werther's liquid smoke. Then with surgical precision, he'd tie the thing up with cotton twine, crossways and diagonally, to keep it securely in place. He would then inserted the spit and set the forks in place. This was the most critical part, because a turkey is breast-heavy, and if the thing isn't balanced perfectly on the spit, the motor would work too hard and could burn out. Then he'd place it in his old-style "Big Boy" charcoal barbecue and flip the switch.
For the next few hours, we'd sit out on the patio, talk about life, drink beer and eat Doritos as the turkey went around. Every so often, my BBQ sensei would ask rhetorically, "Well, Dave. Whaddya think? Should we add another briquette or two?" Ever the willing student, I would answer, "Yep. Looks like it's about time." Every now and then, grease would drip on one of the briquettes and start flaming. It was my job to be ready with a squirt bottle to put the fire out. Eventually I got deadly accurate. I could snuff out a flaming briquette with a single squirt from 10 feet away.
My father-in-law passed away in 1980. Our patio sessions are among my fondest memories of him. Thankfully, I've been able share this manly ritual with my sons-in-law. Last year, Jorge and Dana moved to Houston and bought a house. One of their first outdoor purchases was a barbecue grill... with a rotisserie, or course! Here we are last Thanksgiving. The bird's in place and we're about to flip the switch. I'm telling you, there's nothing finer than a turkey cooked on the spit.
We rotisserie a turkey every Thanksgiving, and several other times throughout the year. I'll share our secrets with you soon.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
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