It’s been said that a man’s summer can be quantified by the sum of three things – the amount of time spent lounging at the beach, the gallons of sweat lost to ridiculous temperatures, and the pounds of meat that came across his grill…

I like to think that I’m not doing too bad so far this year – with the substitution of a pool for the beach, lately I’ve been backstroking the night away like there’s a gator in the deep end (thankfully, there’s not!), and my pores feel like they’ve been open for business pretty much 24/7 since mid-May for the amount of sweat that our exhilarating, summer heat has induced!  I’ve even managed to host a couple of impromptu get-togethers where the barbecue sauce flowed well into the evening hours, which have been great fun but at the same time also brought me to the unexpected conclusion:

I don’t exactly know how to grill.

I mean, sure – light charcoal, wait, put meat over charcoal seems easy enough when all you’re cooking a few hotdogs and the obligatory after-dinner s’mores to follow, but when the time has come for The Adult Grill-Master to step things up a notch and start offering things like chicken and steak and shish kabobs and all sorts of other adult foods that while very tasty, also have the distinct potential of giving your friends and family salmonella … which for the sake of potential Christmas gifts is “kind of a bad thing” … it also becomes painfully clear that it’s time to pick up a few new grill skills past those that we first procured back during our teenage years when half the fun was just getting to play with fire in the first place.*

* Word to the wise, kiddies – playing with fire turns out to not be nearly as fun when the fire department has to make a guest appearance on account of your being stupid – just go ahead and trust me on this one…

No, it’s here safely in the hindsight where it occurred to me that this young Padawan still has much to learn about the subtle art of grilling, from sauces and marinades to cooking temperatures, durations, searing techniques! And believe me, I certainly understand that my lack of open pit prowess isn’t exactly the most manly thing to be declaring here in the dead of summer when the Coronas are flowing freely and every guy who’s ever spent ten minutes inside a gym insists on walking around town with their shirts off, but as much as I’ll never be able to bench press 200 pounds or slam a brewski in less than 10 seconds, for what it’s worth at least this is one area of perceived manhood where I’m actually willing, no eager, to learn!

I may not have an actual meat thermometer or one of those funny aprons that says “Real Men Slather It in Barbecue Sauce,” but mark my words – before this summer has seen its last impeccable sunset, by the smoldering remains at the bottom of my $49 Walmart special, I will learn my way around this grill to eventually serve up a variety of rare and exotic meats that haven’t been sliced into a dozen times simply to double-check that they’re actually cooked all the way through!  Not raw and ill-inspiring, nor charred and dry and tasteless – only the most moist and succulent of manly sustenance shall spring forth from these coals to grace the dinner plates of our beloved patio guests.  For I am a man, and I own a grill – it is my destiny…

Patience is a virtue, grilling an art form, and in due time I shall master both to create yummy steaks and hamburgers and even the occasional kabob.  And delicious and salmonella-free, they will all be!