Smells will emanate from houses, Men the country over will be commandeering 'their domain' in order to roughly cook meat, kebabs and 'some of that vegetable shit wrapped in foil'. Strange how must of us don't want to know when cooking inside in a conventional thing called 'a kitchen'. But move it outside onto a contraption that needs to be lit and has fire and all of a sudden we're Jamie Oliver and John Wayne rolled into one. It's like Backdraft meets 30 minute meals.
Cooking must be done by the man. Man must be dressed in summer shorts and vest with an Apron and a tin of Stella glued to the hand. No BBQ would be the same without it.
Today i have been invited to my pals BBQ in Buckinghamshire. However I'm always slightly disappointed with Sue and Elliots BBQ's. The house is fab, the food they put on incredible, the company and hospitality impeccable. They are genuinely superb people. It is a lot of fun. There are always loads of people there, kids running amok and an atmosphere of love, fun, family and friendship. What on earth could be better? They are my oldest pals. How can i criticise?
Well Elliot has a super expensive Gas BBQ. It's really like the Bentley of BBQ's. Easy to light, even heat for cooking. Lots of space. Takes the stress out of BBQ's.
Whats wrong with that i hear you say? Well it's Not part of the standard Great British BBQ. For me it loses some of the atmosphere of the BBQ. That element of danger old school BBQ's had. You know the sort when you didn't know if you would have to make a dash to Sainsburys for more burgers or A&E for third degree burns.
You loaded up the charcoal, wedged a load of firelighters in, got your hands caked in flammable stuff and then precariously leaned over the Barby and tried to light it with your 49p lighter. It was like The Cube but without Gayboy Scholfied jabbering in your ear.
Of course the old style BBQ's were on a tripod with one leg shorter than the others. The trays were too small and the charcoal piled up so high to the grill all the food tasted slightly weird. But that was all part of it.
It would take Man literally hours to get the fucking thing going. The ultimate test of male pride. Akin to parallel parking, knowledge of directions and DIY. Failure was not an option no matter how big the flames got. The fucking BBQ will light and cook.Failure would result in male humiliation. You may aswell conduct the day cockless. Not an option.
Of course after 4 hours when the BBQ finally had enough heat to cook, Man was so impatient that the whole raw meat, fish mix would be thrown out the window. Everything would be thrown on together. A chicken leg allowed the same time as a sausage. There was little or no strategy. No tactics. It was like watching England under Steve Mclaren.
Then of course the food would start being drip fed across to the table. Where endless pasta salads, bread rolls, bowls of summer stuff had been prepared. A sausage here, a burger there but the 'fancy stuff', kebabs, chicken marinated in something would obviously take so long until they were literally burnt to cinder outside and uncooked in side.
In fact marinading was rendered useless as man had piled charcoal so high and dropped some of the stuff through the grill, the only marinade that you could taste was 'deisel'.
Of course tongs were wholey inadequate. May as well use 2 chop sticks to pick stuff up and the cooked meat was of course transferred onto the plate that carried the raw meat. Fuck the bacteria, lets get on with it.
You would then have to chase the final heated charcoal around the BBQ to keep cooking. 2/3 rds of the BBQ was ash and a little red heated coal remained to try and cook the remaining lot. There was always a couple of sausages and burgers left on. Blackened, burn, solid. But the compulsive over eater would always slap a load of ketchup on and get it down the neck.
Luxury Gas BBQ's take all this element of slapstick away. Food is cooked too easily and there are no dramas.
In a way i will always miss the old style BBQ's. Particularly reading articles of people being admitted into A&E or Fire Brigades called because they had used Petrol on the thing and set fire to the fence. Those people were not unlucky or unfortunate. No they were plain fucking stupid and deserved everything they got. Still it added to the Great British BBQ.
We're pretty shit in this country at BBQ's. But that's what makes us British. It's what makes us unique. Yes you can marinade stuff all you like, put together Intricate kebabs Jamie. Get your garden candles from Homebase and ponce about on your hammocks and think we are catching up with Australia or South Africa.
But fuck that, celebrate being British with the Jubilee coming up. The Great British BBQ. Where else in the world do they BBQ with 38p ladyboy penis sausages, Birdseye burgers, 68 cans of lager, coal, 4star petrol, a massive fire and 2nd degree burns. Makes you proud to be British
xx
No comments:
Post a Comment