My wife gave me as Christmas present the Mercedes Benz of the grills. a Weber. The Weber, a Canadian product, is the most sophisticated among a wide range of grills (www.weber.com). I have already one with gas but now the round, shiny Weber is decorating my backyard. It was easy to assemble the thing, even for a man with two left hands like me.
In Australia, the mother country of my wife, grilling is a men’s affair, no work for women. I am a lousy cook, I admit this. When we are back on the vineyard usually my brother in law, Michael, (or any other Australian male nearby) is doing the grilling, but in Jakarta there is no Michael. Now I ran out of excuses, and the Weber is there calling for me.
The second impediment for me becoming a master griller is that I do not appreciate meat very much. Not that I am a vegetarian, no, I am rather a selective meat consumer. There are days I cannot swallow the flesh of animals and stick to green stuff exclusively. The biggest challange for me is to find out when the meat “is done”.
I knew long before Christmas Day that I would get a Weber. The packaging gave it away. It was just to bulky under the Christmas tree. So mentally I was somehow prepared for it. I also knew that Margit had bought a Turkey to be prepared for Christmas lunch. And Tukey it was, my first grilled masterpiece.
The photo below depicts me doing my job as an Australian man. Sorry for the outfit (no Akubra; www.akubra.com.au; another icon of Australian identity), but it’s hot in the tropics. The Turkey tasted wonderful. I am sorry for the winedrinkers. When I stand next to a grill I can only drink beer. A case of Tooheys Red, the favourite hops drink of my brother in law, was consumed in the battle with the grill and later with the meal I drank the last supply of my Bitburger Beer from my hometown. Margit drank sparkling and the girls had water.