Blógünder Schlock

We’ve gotten some pretty good snow in Utah Valley this week. This hasn’t stopped me from grilling on my back deck, though. I’ve been doing the low-carb* thing since Thanksgiving, and there’s really only one RIGHT way to cook big, tender chunks of animal flesh — over flame. I feel like I’m throwing a winter-defiance party every day at lunchtime. The grill heats up, the snow melts off of it and boils away to steam, and then I (quickly) slip out the kitchen door onto the deck, slap my PETA-unfriendly slabs of dead animal over the flames, and then wait inside with a timer while watching the thermometer on the grill through the window.

Yesterday the grill ran out of gas. No problem… I bought a replacement tank a day earlier, anticipating the problem. Unfortunately, yesterday it was also about 10 degrees Farenheit on the back deck, and the grill was icy. I got the tank installed, but it wouldn’t flow — probably because of gunk in the hose, a problem I’ve had before, and which is solved by disconnecting the hose, putting your mouth on it, and blowing really hard with the valves open.

Putting your mouth on a brass fitting in 10-degree-weather is a great way to end up leaving your lips attached to the grill, so I quickly arrived at the decision to bring the grill inside for a tune-up. Oh, the irony. Just Sunday the Ward sent out a newsletter with instructions from the local Fire Department on “how not to have a house fire” printed on the back. I’m pretty sure that “don’t you be fiddling with a gas grill inside your house, you idiot” was on the list SOMEWHERE.

Still, I got away with it. The grill works like a champ, and the tank that’s on it should last at least until March. I had a steak for lunch yesterday, and then (vegetarians should now avert their eyes and skip to the next paragraph) grilled up a chicken breast wrapped in three slices of thick, Hormel Black Label bacon. I chopped that up, added half an avocado and some ranch dressing, and tupperware’d it for dinner at the Temple. It was so good cold that I’m sure I’ll be trussing chicken with bacon in grillings to come.

The biggest problem with the snow and the cold is that Turbo Schlock, my 2003 cyber-green New Beetle, does not LOOK like a fit-for-cold-weather car. Forget the fact that it heats up quickly, or that the heated seats make even the coldest mornings toasty — the happy green color and the silly Beetle shape just look SAD when covered in snow and frozen street-slush. Tuesday evening the Bishop looked at my car as the two of us emerged from the evening’s bout with the Ward finances, and said “if you look closely enough, I think you can see it SHIVERING.”

Winter hasn’t even officially begun yet, and already I’m campaigning to defy it. Hopefully my grilling on the back deck, and driving a bright-green Beetle (with, I might add, the sun roof open… I worked out at the gym yesterday, and the 27-degree air felt kind of refreshing on the drive home) won’t tip some cosmic balance and bring down a three-day blizzard. But if it does, I’ll just sweep the grill off, and take out my frustrations on chunks of some tasty animals I never met, and who never did anything to me, but they’re dead and I’m hungry.

*Note: I realize that there are those among my readers who hear the phrase “low-carb” and immediately desire to offer me nutritional advice. I have a new rule: Don’t email me unless you want to say nice, supporting things about my lifestyle choices. I’ve been low-carbing since before it was a fad, and I know my body and my diet much better than you do. What’s that you say? You’ve got a Master’s Degree in Nutritional Science? I tell you what… I’ll keep eating bacon-wrapped chicken breasts and you can eat your degree. Just don’t make me feed it to you.

This entry was posted on Thursday, December 8th, 2005 at 9:00 am and is filed under Food, Home & Family. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site. Your comments will be moderated but will appear as soon as humanly possible.