Megan Mulls It Over

+JMJ

Note: The term “barbecue” in this post refers to any food that is prepared on an outdoor fire, whether the source of that fire is wood, charcoal, or gas. I typically use the verb “barbecue” to refer both to cooking over a wood or charcoal-generated fire and cooking over a gas-generated fire (what many others would call “grilling”). I know that this linguistic sloppiness is anathema to a lot of outdoor cooking enthusiasts, but that doesn’t bother me. Barbecue has always been a casual, low-key food for me, so the thought of erecting all these rules around it seems a little silly.

When I was growing up in small-town/rural Texas, my family typically ate barbecue at least once a week. It was not considered a “special occasion” food. So even though I am now approaching my fifth year of living in the Austin metro area, I still get a kick out of how gaga “fancy city folks” up here go over these pieces of charred meat. This post will cover things that I have learned from my own personal experiences with barbecue, as well as a couple of ways in which I think some barbecue restaurants might be taking it too seriously. (FYI – I have always been a consumer of barbecue, never a preparer.)

1 – Every man loves to barbecue.

(Note to the Equal Representation Patrol: In my family, barbecue was never prepared by women. And even though I did know of one (and I do mean one, although I don’t think this means she was the only one) woman from my hometown who barbecued, outdoor food-burning was very much a man’s world. And nobody minded. So no, I am not sorry for not giving women more representation in this post.)

Where I come from, recreational barbecuing is enjoyed by men of a variety of races and income levels. I think this has something to do with the primal relationship between men and fire. Barbecuing offers a man the chance to reconnect with his inner caveman without the risk of getting eaten by a mastodon.

And I think there is a scriptural basis for this as well. Some of you may be familiar with the “two charcoal fires” in John’s Gospel. The first is found in John 18:18, where Peter is “keeping warm” while Jesus is being questioned by the high priest. The other appears in John 21:9 when the risen Christ is using the fire to prepare breakfast for the disciples.

True story: The first time I was ever in a setting where the discussion leader (in this case a priest) asked what the significance of the charcoal fire was, I said, “Every man loves to barbecue.”

Of course it’s more than that, but seeing Jesus doing something that so many other men enjoy is very endearing. In addition to all the deep theological significance, the charcoal fire is also, for me at least, a reminder of His humanity. This may surprise some of you because I have written in other posts on this blog that I think one of modern Christianity’s biggest problems is a lack of respect for the divinity of Jesus. I stand by those statements, but that doesn’t mean that I want us to lose sight of Jesus’ humanity. He is fully human and fully divine, so we should always be striving to have a full appreciation of His humanity and a full appreciation of His divinity.

2 – Homemade barbecue is more about the journey than the destination.

This is a philosophical way of saying that homemade barbecue can be hit and miss in terms of quality. Working with fire is inherently volatile. Meat that is cooked on a gas grill is prone to catching on fire, particularly if the weather is windy. The inherent unpredictability of the cooking process is compounded by the fact that recreational barbecuing typically involves consumption of alcohol. If the meat is ready when you’ve just started your beer, you have some decisions to make. You could take the meat off the grill and wrap it in foil to keep it warm. You could move it to a cool spot on the grill.

Or you could just leave it where it is. If your family gives you a hard time about it being burnt, the beers you drank while burning it will take the edge off.

“But Megan, couldn’t the chef just finish his beer inside?” That is an option if he is alone or with friends. But if his family is inside, the odds are that part of the joy of barbecuing was getting a break from them. So having to finish his beer where they are will likely take the fun out of the beer.

3 – The smoke from charcoal and wood fires stinks.

A lot of city dwellers who have only had barbecue in restaurant settings are unfamiliar with how annoying charcoal and wood smoke can be. Some even think it smells good. Barbecuing at home typically requires a lot of trips in and out of the house to get or return utensils and ingredients and, most importantly, get a refill on whatever you are drinking. So by the time the barbecue is ready, your whole house is likely to smell like smoke for the rest of the day.

4 – I will not judge you for wanting to put sauce on your barbecue.

I have always thought of barbecue sauce as a complement to the meat. But there are some purists, including some restaurateurs, who think that “Good barbecue doesn’t need sauce.” Whatever. It is true that a really good (or even mediocre) sauce can make a hunk of meat-ashes more edible. But in my opinion, this doesn’t mean that sauce has no place on barbecue that turned out well.

5 – I definitely won’t judge you for what utensil you use to eat your barbecue.

There is a barbecue restaurant in Texas that doesn’t serve sauce or offer forks. (They do offer spoons.) I am not sure what the rationale behind the fork thing is. My guess would be that it’s “Forks are too fancy” and/or “Our barbecue is so tender you won’t need a fork.” And I think this place has been in business for decades, so people must not mind too much. I am willing to try this restaurant if I’m ever in the area. I’m even willing to become a fan. But there is something a little off-putting to me about having my utensil choices judged and controlled in this manner. As I mentioned in the introductory note, barbecue has always been a very casual food for me, and rules and casual don’t go together very well.

“But Megan, you’re Catholic. I would think you love rules!” Quite the contrary. Humans need rules for the “big things,” but rules for the “little things” can sometimes be an unnecessary buzzkill. I say “unnecessary buzzkill” because sometimes a buzzkill is necessary. For example, if you think Jesus’ rules are a buzzkill, your buzz probably needs to be killed.

Think of it like the father who slaps his child’s hand off of the burning stove. Would you prefer that he let the child keep his hand there for all Eternity?

Wow, that got kinda real. Some of my male readers are probably longing to fire up the grill and crack open a cold one right about now, just to lighten the mood.

And some of my female readers might be thinking, “Uhh, so women can’t barbecue now? You are so sexist!”

It’s not that we can’t barbecue. We’re just much better at making sandwiches. Duh.

Verso l’alto,
Megan