Two Men, Two Pits and a Blog

Nor the Gloom of Night: Grilling Where the Sun Don’t Shine

Looking out the frosted window and the wind-driven snow mounting there, and noting the mercury is reading in the 20121220_183844_edit0single digits now,  wind chill of 7 below, and the longest night of the year has settled upon the land,  there is a curious tug upon the soul I find, to light up, and put some meat to flame. A true Patron of the Pit knows no such convenience as the off season. Nor would we harbor ever the thought, to throw in the towel upon such a game as we have come to love. The reason why is this. If we had to wait for a nice day – a day of smiling weather, warm sunbeams, and song birds twittering from the Dogwoods, well, up here in Minnesota, on the 45th Parallel, we might be waiting for six months then, to grill.  And that’s just not right. No meat geek worth his tongs should abandoned his sanctioned grilling post for that long, less he morph into what we’ve heard is a normal person. And so yesterday, just because, and neath the moon and the stars which shimmered above, we grilled.   It was 5 pm.

afterfocus_1356065332343_edit0Turns out many miles away, cross the wind-swept and frozen land, my fellow patron had his new smoker fired up as well, in sort of an upward raised middle finger to the inclement of weather. Bless him. Were were probably the only two blokes within a 100 mile radius to be grilling this frigid eve, impassioned by our craft. A deep, penetrating cold pressing over a hot bed of coals. The glorious interface of a winter grill master’s lofty ideal. The proving grounds. The cusp between light and darkness. Between fire and ice.

I took the wings, John took the legs, and together and apart, we grilled. Hands in our pockets, huddled over our appointed stations, the ambiance of our fires flaring; crackling in the frozen night. The smell of hickory a’waft in the wintry air. The star fields sprinkled over head, like diamonds cast over a blackened canvas . Glory! And the neighbors all glare at us from behind their warm looking windows, aglow in artificial heat, just shaking their heads. They do not understand that which they are missing.

Intrepid, no. Crazy, maybe. Impassioned, absolutely. To those who grill, and have seen it’s joys, it is our privilege to aspire towards it. To bundle up and put ourselves out there, where the metal meets the meat. For grilling is simply too much fun, and too well with our souls, to forsake it for the seduction of a warm easy chair.  In the air of what the good mail men used to chant; neither snow, nor rain, nor heat – we Patrons of the Pit heed the creed, holding it near to our hickory-scented jackets. Perhaps the mail service never intended it for the Brethren of the Flame, but we latch onto as if it were our own, and lavish accordingly in our intended spoils. A victory not soon extinguished it seems,  from snow, or rain, or heat, nor, as it turns out,  even the gloom of night. Amen.

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5 responses

  1. I think you nailed it right there – I’ve had many days and nights either beside the smoker or the grill where the head on my beer would freeze in between sips.

    December 29, 2012 at 9:50 am

    • Ah yes, nothing says year around BBQ better, than when you go to sup a beverage from your favorite cup, and it stays there!

      December 29, 2012 at 5:08 pm

  2. This looks unbelievably good. Take that old man winter!

    January 19, 2013 at 4:41 pm

  3. There’s nothing better than the bite of flame grilled burger in the middle of a snowstorm! Great Post!

    March 13, 2017 at 2:42 pm

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