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The Case Against Grilling
A year ago, I moved from Manhattan to the the sleepy suburbs of New Jersey. I lived in the five boroughs my entire life, so it was a big change.
But it came with some perks — most notably, a backyard. In a backyard, you’re told, you need certain things.
One of those things you need is a grill.
Now, most people get excited about grills. Fire. The outdoors. Meat. Mmm. MEAT. It’s … primal. Nevermind that if you’re cooking on a gas grill there isn’t much to be done. I mean, gas grills are like the Netflix of barbecuing. You press a button and the fire appears.
But it doesn’t matter. Gas, charcoal, one of those fancy wood-pellet things. If there’s smoke in the sky and you’ve got trays piled high with hamburgers, hot dogs, ribs — looka here son, that right there’s America.
And yet, I guess I’m just different. Grills do not excite me. I mean, I like them, but I don’t love them. I don’t need to grill.
A grill is a tool. A grill is not like, worldview.
Case in point: I was in Home Depot recently (because that’s where you go when you have a house, Home Depot). In the grill aisle — right next to the aisle with chain saws, lawnmowers and like, cases for semi-automatic rifles — all I saw was big pieces of polished steel and sharp angles.
