Grill Master Me

The senior awards banquet in high school was a big deal.  Kids studied hard for 4 years in hopes of being bestowed with honors like Science Student, Math Student or English Student of the Year.

I happen to hold one of those honors. 

Yes, you my friend are reading a blog post penned by the Home Economics Student of the Year, Class of 1998.

Seriously, I was that good!  By the time I was a mere 17 years old, I could make a dress, bake a soufflé, balance a checkbook, nurture an egg-baby and cook the best omelet you’ve ever had.

Unfortunately there was one cooking appliance that was unavailable for educational purposes:  the grill.

It wasn’t until just this year that I had the nerve to spark up the grill.  Maybe it’s because Mrs. Dance didn’t teach me how to, or because I perceived grilling to be the “man’s job.” (To be honest, I don’t ever remember my mom cooking on the grill.  She prepared meals in the kitchen while Dad manned the Weber.)

One of my best girlfriends can grill with the best of them.  I’ve had many ‘a grilled meals at her hand.  Every time she’d cook up grilled chicken or steak, I would wish I had mastered grilling on something other than the Forman.

If I was craving a hot dog?  Microwave.  Chicken?  Oven.   Pork Chops?  Skillet.  

The fact that I could cook everything I wanted inside, coupled with the fact that Ohio seasons really never leant themselves to much cooking on the patio, I meandered through life never knowing the joy of grilling.

Until our move to the warm-weathered, meat-loving state of Texas.

Mark started teaching me how to grill with simple items like burgers and chicken breasts.  Then last weekend, I took the leap and purchased a big ‘ole slab of baby back ribs.  Now neither Mark, nor I, have ever cooked a slab of ribs, and my fear of the grill is still very real!  But I had the butcher wrap them up, and I thanked him calmly, and walked away thinking “I have no idea what I’m gonna do with these!”

Thank God for the blessed internet.  Honestly I don’t know how people learned to cook before 1990.

So tonight, while Mark was out dining with his boss, I cooked- pardon me- grilled, a beautiful, delicious feast.

Move over, George.