Suspicious that it’s not the same
Our deck has a food destroyer. Advertised in fine CanTire catalogs everywhere, the sales pitch is that it will produce a fine grilled food, enjoyed by families across the country
My own experience with the destroyer is that it will grill, in seconds, any exposed skin on me. Forget the target of good cuts of meat. BBQ. Best Be Quick. Beats Buying Quality. BBQ.
The food channel just finished a documentary on the BBQ culture, particularly the one found close to the Mexican border. Where cowboys chase cows and then cook ’em. Slowly. With rubs and marinades and sauces and sprinklings of wet wood shavings.
I’m suspicious that it’s not the same thing. After all, my decades of experience (well, once or twice a year, for decades now) have shown that I can consistently turn a fine steak into a black solid of indeterminate texture. Nothing like what their cameras captured. In fact, I don’t think the climate here allows for BBQ. The only cactus around here died several years ago from drought. The only moist beef seems to come out of a closed clay pot in my kitchen oven. Rubs and sauces and wet wood shavings are not part of the BBQ scene on our patio.
Maybe I should see if those southern cook stars do “take out” (delivery understood).
