Two Men, Two Pits and a Blog


Meat Poetry: An Ode to Smoke

If memories are linked with smell, and we believe this to be so, then there are a lifetime of them every time we light the grill. The charcoal grill that is.  Not to be snobbish or disrespectful to you gassy people out there, your way is fun too, for at least you are out there, putting meat to flame, but less you plunk a tatter of wood upon thy burner, you simply will never know the joy of smoke. Nor achieve that true smokey flavor that real BBQ is known for.  That’s half the reason we grill in the first place, for the smell of it. For the sheer wafting ambiance of wood smoke floating over a quiet pit. Ducks milling on the pond. Gophers dashing across the back forty. The waning golden rays of sun a’wash over your tranquil patio.  And the smell of smoldering mesquite in the air there, whilst your prized rump roast sizzles in the cooker. Ah yes, the ambiance. And the smoke, for better or for worse, is a part of that.

People often dash the charcoal grill for the speed and convenience of the gas units. We do not understand. Why would you take something you love, like grilling, and try to speed it up. For let it be said, because it’s true, anything that is worth doing in this life, is worth doing slowly. There is a pleasure in the process of lighting the coals, of watching the fire slowly come to life, and the puffs of smoke ascending to the heavens. To grill over charcoal is to say to yourself, and who ever else is looking, that you’re in no hurry. Such action confounds your peers, and grabs the sun by the tail as it were, and pauses it there in sky, extending the moment for the moment’s sake. And all the Brethren of the Smoke rejoice. Indeed, there is a simple joy residing with the charcoal and wood cookers, patron to those who choose the scenic path, and the smoke which rises there. Amen.

8 responses

  1. Reblogged this on Patrons of the Pit and commented:

    Upon waking this morning, I was informed by the WordPress Monkeys that today is Patrons of the Pits birthday. Yup, go figure that. They said we were 3 years old, today. In the blogosphere, just like in human years, well, that’s just getting out of your diapers for good. So it’s our birthday. Seems fitting then to re-print here our very first blog post,just because. Enjoy…

    Many thanks to our fabulous readership. Without you there would be no birthday today. And a whole lot less meat pics in cyberspace.


    November 13, 2015 at 4:16 pm

  2. AMEN! Although I am not a PotP, as I am ‘gassy’ so you say, I still do enjoy the occasional smoke. Hauoli la hanau PotP, Happy Birthday to you! A hui hou, until we meet, ALOHA! Auntie

    November 13, 2015 at 5:19 pm

    • Yes, I have come to accept your gassy ways only because you’re so fun and lovable!

      Aloha Auntiedoni!

      November 13, 2015 at 6:29 pm

  3. Pingback: Meat Poetry: An Ode to Smoke | Rifleman III Journal

  4. Happy birthday, dear Patrons. Thank you for sharing your love of all things smoky.

    November 14, 2015 at 6:50 am

  5. Very well said. A lovely ode to the pit. Cheers and merry birthday!

    November 14, 2015 at 9:28 am

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