Weekend update, June 15, 2014

"Once upon a time, man had a love affair with fire."

Robert McCammon

 'Man' being the most thought provoking and perhaps the most historically important word in that sentence. Although many of us, men and women, would love the chance to curl up with

a one of those and a one of those in front of a one of that,

Humanity's enduring relationship with fire is not exactly gender neutral. There are flames that are traditionally handled by women, and flames that are traditionally the domain of men. Here- let's see if we can arrange in in a sort of  lady flamage to macho flamage continuum:

lady flames start with scented candles,          then move to contained cooking fires                   on to kitchen blowtorches

moving into the manzone with barbecues,           to campfires                                   to large things that go BOOM.

Of course there's overlap- there are men who understand why scented candles are an imperative, and there are women firefighters. Most of the world's famous chefs have been men, and I myself can start a campfire with a single match. 

And  yet, one cannot deny that there is this funny and ancient division of fire-works:

while women tend any fire that can fit under a pot,

barbecuing is for the menfolk. 

Maybe this is because in olden times, women weren't taught how to manage a fire bigger than a stove burners, and in a panic

often tried to shield themselves from fiery destruction
with their own highly flammable barbecutie dresses.

 And maybe, men assumed dominion of the outdoor cooking fires because they just had a natural, you know,  knack for it.

most of the time.

Want a little more evidence of pyrosexism?  Consider this: When a man has a burning determination to accomplish a goal, he's said to have a "fire in the belly" while a woman with a fire in the belly has usually fallen victim of the sort heartburn that comes from rearranging the internal furniture to make room for a baby. An angry man? 

He's hot.

An angry woman? She's got a fiery temper.

and somehow this is not always a good thing.

Good or bad, gender-rule breaking or not, this little suburbanite was smokin' last week. 

I have begun to conquer the grill.

Begun. Not altogether mastered. For instance:

This Grilled Skirt Steak

Grilling means to cook something quickly over a hot fire, and barbecuing is cooking something slowly over a low fire. This is a thing I learned. What I did not learn was why this recipe, which I really did pay attention to, turned out so chewy. And slicing it even thinner and putting it on a skirt steak salad didn't magically make it more tender. Topping it with a green dressing made it a little more entertaining though-

but only because it made me think
"Who ya gonna call when a ghost leaves an
ectoplasmic trail on your salad?"

yep, these guys.

Here's what I did learn- a few things that give me hope for my future as a chick who grills. First, grilled salad is my new favorite thing. Second, grilled pizza is my new favorite thing.

no, really. Grilled pizza!!! amazing! 

Whole foods was nice enough to have to little balls of pizza dough in the freezer case. They got rolled out any old way, brushed with olive oil and thrown on the grill til the underside was dry. Then they were flipped over, and the cooked side spread with pizza toppings.

That's the magic "woodchips in a foil packet" trick.
Gave the pizza an unbelievable wood oven taste.

 back on the grill, lid closed for about 5 minutes, and:

pizza. and burning cheese. And a whole lot of smoke. 

 No kidding. I am never heating the kitchen to 500 degrees to bake a pizza ever again.
And. Guess What!?!?! I cooked a slab of animal protein, and it was awesome! Go ahead, gasp in astonishment. I was surprised too. 
Because I did that thing where you read a recipe at 5, thinking you have plenty of time to cook for dinner at 7, until you read "Your ribs should be done in 4 to 5 hours of cooking"

!!!!!!

But look what happened in an hour and a half!

Yes. The potatoes were on the grill for 20 minutes, and that turns out to be about 4 shades of brown too long. But that's an inexpensive mistake that's easy to correct. But tender, juicy, smoky ribs? That's a first for this fire starter. But not the last. From now on, ribs are my favorite thing.

I've wondered and wondered this week about our preoccupation with fire.
and I haven't even almost figured it out.
But there is this:
 The same fire that comforts can destroy.
Maybe it's that balance that holds us in fascination.
I hope this week
that balance works in your favor.
I hope you find a way to burn bright without burning out.
and that the passions that light you up
light your way through the week.
And if you don't go at it like a house on fire
That's okay. 
Houses on fire are usually a disaster anyway.
 I hope for you that single flame.
that steady, simple, loving fire
that will be all you need

to light your whole world.