Ali's Kitchen: Hilarity Ensues While Grilling Chicken

Hi. We got some new patio furniture.

In New York City, a porch is what's known as a "Big Deal" because it can function as sort of an "Extra Room" and therefore as "Bragging Rights." Ergo, we were Terribly Excited about our Big Deal Extra Room's New Look. So excited that we got a grill. You know the kind: The baby grill that's not even as high as your shin and has about a 14" diameter? This kind of grill:


We've decided to call him Mr. Grilly, because we're creative like that. For Mr. Grilly's inaugural cookout, we selected some nice Perdue skinless boneless chicken breasts and what turned out to be the Best Barbecue Sauce Ever (if you like the non-spicy kind and tend to break out in hives when you're around anything less mild than mole sauce):


Keep in mind, I'm not what you'd call a BBQ expert, though I pretend to be around Northerners who don't know any better (ha HA - serves them right for someone actually asking me if Georgians wear shoes during the summer, and for everyone being astounded that I don't have an accent).

Now, this is where everything went wrong: sometime between marinating the chicken and putting a match to the charcoal in the grill. It took us THREE HOURS and very near a spontaneous divorce to get the damn thing lit. I'm still not sure what we were doing wrong, but sometime during the evening, we gave up and ordered pizza.

Then, as I was reading about Henry VIII's children and waiting for the very late pizza, I sniffed the air and realized ruefully that SOMEONE in our building was indeed grilling successfully. Then I sniffed again. And again. And had a hunch! And went out to our porch extra room! And the coals! They were red! And hot! And the chicken! I put it on!! And grilled it!!

And then I, personally, ate pizza, because damn, it was enough with the chicken already.

K, however, had the chicken, as did our sous-chef, and the general consensus was:


(Please note sous-chef perched in the corner, supervising dinner.)

I have no idea what we were doing wrong with lighting the grill, because last night we grilled again (turkey hot dogs) and all went without incident. I just don't know.

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I waited to post this one after at least a solid week of grilling to add Things I Have Learned:

1) I now know what one needs to do on a dinky little grill like this one: Mix it up about 60/40 Matchlight and Traditional charcoal, stack in a vague pyramid (thanks to Courtney), and light from the bottom. ALSO, it helps to take out the lower grate in this kind of grill, thereby giving you more space for more coals, and therefore more heat! Et voilà: A dinky but hot grill that can cook for at least two hours.

2) For the love of Blog, insist that your husband not light the grill without one of you cleaning the grate(s) first. Otherwise? SMOKE. STINK. WOE.

3) I now live for turkey hot dogs and turkey burgers. This could be problematic for bathing suit season.

4) While it's too cute to have a husband who's into grilling, don't be surprised if husband/boyfriend/male companion won't actually use tips you've figured out, like the take-out-the-second-grate-for-more-coal-space thing. He is a Man. He is impervious to suggestions, because he wants to be a Grill Master. Be sure to give credit where credit is due, such as an improvised habanero marinade for some chicken cutlets.

5) It's difficult to grill ground chicken burgers, as they aren't as cohesive as ground beef or ground turkey. They will drop through the spaces in the grate, thus creating much Smoke and Stink and Woe (again), and forcing you to order backup pizza (again).

More grilling escapades to come, I'm sure!