Drew versus the Barbecue

I was tooling around some of Jlee's links the other day and came across someone telling the story of how they caught their kitchen on fire. It reminded me of an incident from about 5 years ago. Now, normal people would hide the fact they did what I did. I choose to post it on a semi-public blog...


I got divorced in 2003. For the next couple years I lived on the 4 major food groups; Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, McDonalds and Maruchan Chicken Flavored noodles. But then something strange happened. I decided to try to improve my diet. I was working hard to reinvent certain parts of myself. My original plan was pretty simple. BBQ, baby.

I would become a master barbecuer. I would bbq everything. I started small, with hot dogs...but I had turkey burgers, steaks, even chicken lined up. And I worked at getting started barbecuing them.

There are two ironies here. The first is that I don't like barbecue sauce. Nor do I like other marinades. I don't particularly like spices. In fact, I cannot think of any sauce or condiment I used at that time other than Lawrys Seasoning Salt and regular salt. So it is pretty funny that I chose barbecue for my mode of cooking. My plan was to bbq not just in the summer, but the winter also. Sure, it would be cold...but I figured the grill would radiate a little bit of heat.

The second irony was that barbecue was the mode of cooking I was far and away most incompetent at. I could rarely get the briquet's started. When I did I could never get the heat even. Nor could I figure out a way to keep burgers on the grill or how to time when to flip stuff. Oh, yes, we have a potential disaster in the making.

So I started with the hot dogs. They seemed easy enough. It proved problematic to build up the right base of coals. I could typically get one section of the grill warm, but the other three sections would not burn. Also, the one I did get going would be fitful. This was okay for hot dogs...but the hamburgers were not cool, and the steak...well, one portion charred black while the other side I could chill my soda pop with. You thought I was kidding when I said I am not a good fire builder.

Fortunately, technology has provided the men of the grill with the proper tools to fix this problem. You may have heard of it. Lighter fluid, baby. Lots of it. Like, I would spray a half a can on. Then I would let it soak for 10 - 15 minutes. Then I would put in the other half of the can.


Oh, yeah. Flames about 5' high were mine now. Of course, since I was barbecuing on a small balcony, that could cause problems, so it was always fun trying to stay close enough to the grill to stamp out any sparks while still far enough to avoid 3rd degree burns over 82% of my body. Nah, I don't want to exaggerate...it would have been no more than 81%...

I got sunburns from sitting in the lawn chair waiting for my baby to die down. Finally the flames would retract to a reasonable level...you know, low enough to allow me to get within tong reach of the grill... so I would put the lid on to try and build that white hot base that would let me grill evenly. Putting the lid on cut off the flow of air and would typically kill the fire that had been so glorious moments earlier.

One day I had enough of half cooked meat. I had about three bottles of lighter fluid. The first one went on, the thing sat there for probably an hour because I got a phone call from someone I had a crush on at the time. (And am now married to).

Well, I forgot I had put a bottle on...so I put on a second one. Then I dropped a match in. I say dropped because after putting a 1/2 bottle in as I typically did, the flames tended to take off in a hurry. This time they did not, so I ended up starting small fires in about 6 spots around it. Then all the lighter fluid I had soaked it down with took off.

I like to think I have a somewhat prudent side, so I went and got a jug of water. I fought my way through the flames to the porch so I could watch carefully. It took probably ten minutes before I thought I could put the lid on. Soon, I put on a steak. Juicy, succulent, tasty Omaha Filet Mignon. Mmm....

After a few minutes I went to check on the progress. The lid was so hot I needed to use an oven mitt. No problem. So I flipped the steak, and the phone rang. I put the lid back, but forgot to take the oven mitt with me. Now, it turns out the mitt was made of cotton.

Did you know cotton burns? And pretty well? I was talking on the phone, turned, and saw the top of my bbq wreathed in flames. I made my apologies, ran over, knocked the flaming mitt to the porch, stomped it out and poured water on it.

Did you know that burning cotton sticks to the surface it is burning on?

So I ran back to the kitchen to refill my jug of water. The top of the grill now had flames two or three feet high. Wouldn't you know my neighbors, who were NEVER in their back yard, chose this day to be out there...with a bunch of their friends?

So I casually set the jug down and walk out on the porch, trying to play it off as if everything is normal. Their voices carried, though...and I heard them saying, "Does that dude know his grill is on fire?" So I casually reached inside, grabbed the jug, and put the fire out.

When all this started, it was a nice, fire-red grill. Now, it was a nice, charcoal-black grill. And it had some new air holes in the top...That is the story of how I became the first person in history to burn down a barbecue grill.