Singeing In the Rain

For the fair weather griller, that person cooking under the woeful misapprehension that grilling is a pastime best in moments of sunshine, starlight and moon glow, rain is anathema to everything they hold sear. These are the people who, after a drop of harmless drizzle, run sprinting to shelter, incapable of incorporating a little rainwater to their bone dry rub. What’s a marinade without some added H2O anyway? 

When a fire blazes during a torrential downpour it is man’s way of telling the Big Guy, we’re onto his mind games and over his natural histrionics. We don’t need to wait around for a lightning strike to get our cigars smoking. In his world, our world, he’d like to be the only one wielding fire during moister times. A Christmas tree lightning has a very different meaning where he comes from. 

One of the added benefits of grilling in the rain is that very few people stand over you, commenting on doneness. Instead, they stand off to the side, dreaming of droughts and a cloudless future. If someone can’t see your steak, how can they critique it? In weather like this, you are left to your own devices - usually the flashlight of a soaking wet iPhone. There is no one watching your every move, remarking a bit too loudly when you drop a burger patty on the ground and casually place it back on the grates. No witness, no problem. 

This practice is not without its risks. There is the tendency by the griller to feel the need to use too much water when cooking something like fish. The thinking is that fish come from the water, so a little extra won’t hurt them. In fact, they may just start swimming right there on the coals. Maybe if you’re making fish soup, but not when under fire. While water shouldn’t be feared, it shouldn’t be worshipped either. Water is merely ice that’s lost its way. 

There are many opinions when it comes to this type of recreational activity. Like any porcine capitalist, I have more than my share. But there is no hotter take these days than peeling your own eyebrows off  the back of a top-of-the-line Weber. That's how you know you're done.