May 19, 2006

• I sent my essay last week. (And I got my free steak coupon yesterday). Then I wrote two more essays for a couple of buddies. Like this: "Why I love to barbecue: Barbecuing has a long and glorious history. According to the Encyclopedia Britannica, the word barbecue came from the 16th century Spanish, who in turn took it from the Arawak Indians of the Caribbean. In Arawak, the barbacoa was a grating of green wood on which strips of meat were cooked or dried over a slow fire. That meat would be pretty well done by now. And who's going to eat it? So it goes. In the history books we read of barbecuing in all its variations -- the marinades, the sauces, the coal, the gas. Yes it's true that barbecueing has had its detractors in the past (e.g. Joan of Arc) but these have been an irresponsible minority. Sincerely, etc."
• Oh great, another reason for those stuck-up Ontariolios to act all cocky! I hate those jerks and their free steaks! I hope that the steaks are full of gristle so that they have to chew and chew and chew and chew until their jaws fall off and then the partially chewed steak falls on the ground and then they drool and look pathetic and sad because they can never eat steak again and they can only eat mashed banana and then only very carefully and wearing a bib and then I will point and laugh ha ha ha!!
• Okay Koko, I'll put you down as "love to barbecue".
• Thanks.
• *ponders the ins and outs of barbecuing a salad* *orders bowl of cheesy peas and rice*
• I don't like barbecuing. It attracts mosquitoes (whose name also comes from the Spanish, but not from the Arawak), and horse flies, and the food tastes like charred flesh, and the tomatoes (also Spanish) go soggy, and I get too hot from toiling over the embers, and smell all smokey, and my eyes water from the smoke. I hate it. I'd rather eat meat that's been broiled on a proper gas stove, and leave the Indians to their traditional way of life.
• What do I win?
• I love to barbecue because meat eating acts as a mirror representation of male dominance at every meal. Nothing satisfies my inner primal hunger for appetizing food like the fragmented and charred yet fragrant and alluring flesh of dead animals. When my patriarchal gaze lays upon the sweet cubed flesh gripping a skewer, alternating with the tease of unwanted heat-wilted vegetables I am of course reminded of an exotic dancer gripping a pole, the tease of strips of cloth blocking my view of her bronze flesh. Like undesired vegetables, the clothes are removed one by one and discarded, revealing the succulent flesh underneath, fueling my hunger.
• A barbecue is more than food. It's an opportunity for community, to break bread with your neighbours and your friends. To create new relationships new friendships. To break the barriers we sometimes create. A barbecue is a cultural expression of your individual right to piss off the neighbours that you didn't invite. An occasion to set shit on fire, get drunk and fight with your partner in front of everyone you want to be valued by. No idea if I met the 100 word limit, but hope some one might use this as an entry. Though where I come from 100 words is usually considered a short 'paragraph' rather than an opus.
• *fumes*
• I love to barbecue for the *fumes*. The greenhouse gases produced by the manufacture and burning of charcoal are significantly higher than that of wood and other traditional biomass fuel sources. As you know, greenhouse gases produce higher average global temperatures which are resulting in the melting of permafrost, clearing "drunken" forests, drowning ferocious and dangerous animals such as polar bears, and removing useless vermin (after all, what has a spotted owl done for me?) ensuring these once traditionally barren and cold desert-like areas will be inhabitable prime vacation spots for Americans in 50 to 100 years. Besides making meat tasty, that which does not kill us makes us stronger.
• Glass half full: we Ontariolios get free Ontariolio steaks. Glass half empty: Mad cow.
• Nomen: *applause* Skrik: no steak for you!
• How about that father-son bonding experience where, while the father toils with charcoal and lighter fluid, the son demands that the father make a giant fireball in the BBQ grill. Of course, you should never, ever do this, unless you have a container of liquid nitrogen in the garage.
• I saw that film. Episode 3, I think.
• I think I'll just spend my time Barbequeing, actually.
• if some one else cooks it I will eat it the bowl of colorade chili hot peppers and anchovies ring us round I think someone ordered pizza
• wow, They're giving away free stakes in Ontario?! I didn't know that the vampire population was such a problem up there! (Puts garlic clove in tinfoil thong to protect against crotch biters.)
• garlic means nothing to a modern vampire unless it's roasted and spreads smoothly as a red tide over a victim's pulsing throat
• My favorite part of the barbecue is the point at which you start to get punchy and put things on the coals that don't belong there. I enjoy watching the ice cubes from the beer cooler melt super-fast and sink through the slats of the grill, especially the big clumps of ice cubes that are all stuck together. The high fat content of potato chips makes them burn like lamp wicks, yellow and steady. Dill pickles sizzle and sputter, wafting dill-scented smoke and steam into the inky darkness of a summer night. Steaks from Ontario taste really bad.
• I can never get barbecuing right. I always wind up frying the damn thing on the stove. I have a cheap Smokey Joe. Tips?
• Tip: a more expensive smokey joe. Seriously. I bought one of those no-name table-top $25 propane gas grills once. Barely worked as it never got hot enough -- took forever to cook on it. Once the item was fully cooked, it was also all desiccated. Figured the grill was defective so I exchanged it for an identical one. That one worked like shit too. My sister spent $125 for a small gas grill and that one works pretty decently. A friend bought a $400 one, and that one is spectacular.
• For many, barbequeing means community, family, summer fun, good food, fun times. For me, its all about the barbeque sauce. From the instant I arrive, like a primitive hunter I stalk your sauce, eyes darting about until they fall on the plastic bottle of joy. Then its off behind the nearest tree for me as I upend your Kraft Thick'n'Tangy over my gaping pie-hole, sucking the tiny opening in the easy-squeeze lid until nary a drop remains. Then its on to the next bottle! After this I usually 'black out' for a couple of hours, coming to only when Security is dragging me by my underwear out of the huge puddle of peppery brown goo I have made in the condiment aisle of the local Albertson's.
• (wow...this is fun!...it's like haiku...only longer)
• Sexorbot, if you are ever in Australia, email me.
• For many, Australia means community, family, summer fun....
• Should one with to experiment with the url, one can find the available offers for other provinces. I found the BC one for a friend, but don't have the patience or need to hunt the other codes. If I write an essay, I feel it should somehow contain my loathing for Budweiser and its ilk. Do you think they'd still send coupons?
• My Essay. By es el Queso, aged 36 "I like meat. I like fire. They are even better together. That's what you call a BBQ. I love them even better than Power Rangers. Except for the ants. That's why I love BBQ. The End."
• I love to Barbiequeue because one Barbie is never enough. You gotta get those little plastic fuckers to line up together, and then you can dress them all in their various skirts, leotards, spacesuits – whatever. Yeah – spacesuits. You don't remember astronaut Barbie? Man, you ain't lived until you got your hands on that doll – that's some first class dolltastic shit right there. Star Wars figures ain't got nothin' on her – she’d be all like, "Hey, Yoda – get some plastic surgery, you disgusting little weirdo. You can't rule THIS galaxy unless you've got a full range of designer outfits and accessories. FREAK."
• This is all well and good, but what does grilled steak have to do with barbecue? As we all know, barbecue is whole-hog or pork shoulder slow-roasted over hardwood coals, pulled, and served with a spicy vinegar/pepper sauce with little or no tomato sauce along with a side of hush puppies and some slaw. Grilled beef is many things, including powerful tasty, but one thing it isn't is barbecue. (For the benefit of damnyankees and other foreigners: what is and isn't barbecue is a controversy that's bigger than Jesus, Ford, or high school football in the southern US. The unfortunate denizens of Texas, addled by the heat, have the misfortune to call grilled beef "barbecue" for reasons that are probably best left unexplored.)
• I missed you, tqk.