I looked at the BBQ and saw a tragedy in the making. “Who built that fire?”
“I did, and it’s why you are off to get more charcoal. And get some dessert.”
I could tell one of my daughters hadn’t built it because it was completely for-shit, rather than a blast furnace burning a hole in the grill.
“I don’t eat dessert. There’s still some no-sugar-added Klondike bars that you can eat.”
“I told the kids they can eat them.”
“So you want something you shouldn’t eat?”
“It’s our pearl anniversary. Do you have pearls?”
FTR, dinner was delayed by two hours by that piss-poor fire. It’s a cliche, but guys have been maintaining (IE: “poking”) the fire since we were monkeys. We know what we are doing.
ETA: I get home from the store with charcoal, sour cream, and ice cream, and find that she has already put WHOLE foil-wrapped potatoes on the grill. Was this woman NEVER a Boy Scout? Um, probably not. No wonder dinner was late. We didn’t have beer to pass the time so we needed shortcuts.
I’m training my daughters differently, showing how they can cut cooking time in half, or less.
And it constantly boggles my mind as well that people don’t know how to get a fire going decently. I’m not teh best fiar buildar in the worldz or anything, but how hard is the kindling on bottom, leave some space, put bigger stuff in a teepee above it concept?
I would prefer not to go into it, except she spread too few coals out flat and hoped for the best. I came home with a sack of Kingsfords, not the generics she bought, but found a bunch of WHOLE potatoes wrapped in foil and laid out over the worst fire in Christendom.
Daughter: “Those coals you bought made all the difference.”
That’s because I’m a guy and know my way around a fire. OTOH, last night’s stir fry was because I pay attention and know my way around a kitchen. The latter requires effort. The former requires a million years of evolution and poking the fire and requires no effort whatsoever.
It sounds like there wasn’t much of a fire. Bad fire + whole potatoes = Looooooooooong cooking time.
It always blow my mind when I see people cooking over shitty coals. It’s simple. You make a bill pile, put on the lighter fluid (if you don’t have a chimney starter - Og’s gift to the charcoal grill), light it, wait until the coals turn white, then spread them out.
They took over two hours. You split them, wrap them in foil, flat side down, 25 minutes, flip 'em, give them another 20 minutes, and you’re done.
I blame the Girl Scouts. In the Boy Scouts we learned outdoor cookery. When we were going for our cooking merit badge one guy melted his aluminum Dutch oven. In a wood fire. THAT was a fire. He was my hero.
As was Henry Ford, who gave us the Kingsford charcoal briquet to use the waste wood from building Model Ts. The man hated to throw ANYTHING out.
Hey now! I absolutely learned outdoor cookery in Girl Scouts! And if my husband and I were to go camping (unlikely, as he is not forest-friendly), I could dust off my brain and remember if I needed to.
Of course, I could also build a better fire than he could any day of the week, but he wasn’t in Boy Scouts at all, so I can’t really fault him.
“You haven’t refilled your prescription for Metformin for ages.”
“I can’t afford test strips.”
“The pills are just four bucks a month at Target. You could continue to take the dose you were taking. But you can’t test your blood sugar so you are no longer diabetic?”
“Yeah.”
Although she seems to be asymptomatic at the moment, are ALL diabetics suicidal? I knew one who gauged his insulin by how much he planned to drink that night.
I’d nuke 'em regardless because I LIKE how creamy microwaved potatoes are. The taste from the skin infuses the flesh and…
I don’t like baked in the oven potatoes. Mealy and dry.
And I’m a patient man. Who knows not to talk to anybody before our first coffee. Used to be before our first cigarette, but then we had kids and had to be responsible.
After a struggle I learned her friend had tried to kill herself. My life is littered with such attempts, with varying degrees of success and my sympathy. In this case, I like the kid and am glad she’s being treated.
Clearly dollar bills, with their paper cotton blend, are ideal for kindling that both catches quickly yet burns longer than paper alone. Maus recommends $100s, as they make the poor people cry the most when you burn them.
