Das BBQ

I enjoy grilling.  It appeals to my sense of laziness simplicity.  Marinate some chicken, throw it on the grill, and in ten minutes, a tasty meal appears.  In Phoenix, I used the grill all the time, since the weather allowed me to so.  This spring in the great PNW has been to miserably soggy, I haven't had a chance.  Thankfully, the rain stopped long enough for me to break out the barbecue for the first time this year. In the last ten days, we have had hamburgers, hot dogs, steak, chicken, and bratwurst.  Today, I tried my hand at yellow tail tuna steaks.  (I'm not a big fish eater, so this was my first time grilling fish, ever.  Turned out fine, I must say.)  Soon, I will make "Beer Butt Chicken".  To make this dish, you shove an open can of beer up the ass of a whole chicken.  Grill for hours.  Tender, tasty chicken.

Drake appears to enjoy the product of the barbecue.  Our conversation on Friday:
D:  Mommy, you can make us some hot dogs on the barbecue.
Me:  Drake, I'm all out of hot dogs.
D:  Then, what are you going to barbecue?

Last night at bedtime:
D: Mommy, tomorrow you can barbecue hot dogs for me and Flynn, and hamburgers for you and Daddy.

It's a darn good thing those boys are carnivores.