Inside Looking In: The Universal Element

Katie's Note: Another guest post from my man. Here he offers an explanation of his compulsion to make fire. Enjoy!

“And I am he that searched out the source of fire, by stealth borne-off inclosed in a fennel-rod, which has shown itself a teacher of every art to mortals, and a great resource.”

I come from a different place, and now I live here; that's part of my identity. But I am a man, and I make fire. It’s something I have to do. Fire is both a force of nature and a fundamental element of society. Ancient man first began to form civilizations around the idea of fire. Fire was difficult to move and harder to start, so some people stayed home to tend it while others foraged and hunted. Then we made beer, and things pretty much progressed the way you’d expect from that point.



Every single culture on Earth uses fire to cook. Grilling, in one form or another, is the true universal common ground. If aliens ever visit Earth, chances are good that if they come from an atmosphere somewhat similar to ours they also will know about grilling. 

So this Inside Looking In post isn’t so much about the differences between the South and the non-Yankee area I come from that is technically further north than here (Jefferson State - I won’t say “Californian” because it’s terribly misleading, and the idea of secession gives me some local credibility). I’d rather talk about this one thing we have in common - fire. Specifically, today, we'll talk about fire in two aspects - one of cooking, one of eating. This can be easily accomplished with the use of hot sauce and chicken wings.

You can’t just go with the off-the-shelf wings sauce; you gotta mix your own. Here’s what I use

Key Lime (Minus the Key) Pie

It's hard to believe that only a few months ago I was wishing for Fall/Winter weather. It's true that you always want what you don't have. That's why it's also a cliche. Gotta love a cliche. Yep, here I sit wishing for Spring/Summer weather and wallowing in my cliche.

Last night, Jeremy and I attempted to bring a little Spring/Summer to the Ross household. Jeremy had been dying to use the new grill my parents got us for Christmas, and despite the fact that it was 30 degrees outside, he decided that last night - January 21, 2011 - would be the night he officially christened it. He'd already cured and seasoned the grill last week. That part had felt like an ancient manly ritual: "I am man! I make fire!" He carefully rubbed the entire inside of the grill with vegetable oil, then heated it to 250 degrees for 2 hours and 400 degrees for an additional hour. Why that combination I have no idea, but this process will supposedly keep the metal from rusting as quickly. I'm skeptical.

In addition to this curing process, Jeremy had to season the cast iron grates. Of course. For this, he used nearly an entire can of my Crisco (Yes, I'm very possessive of my cans of shortening; Mama's little baby loves shortenin' shortenin'!). The grill got heated again. This time to 350 degrees. The entire ritual used a huge bag of charcoal, which makes very little sense to me. Why waste charcoal when you're not even going to cook something? But whatever. I'm female and lack the natural compulsion to make fire and burn things.

Regardless, I was glad that Jeremy had already completed this complicated curing and seasoning business, because this meant he could use the grill to make some yummy steaks last night. And boy, were they yummy!

Steaks, baked potatoes, salad, and wine = the perfect meal