Yesterday, we had a reason to celebrate; a much awaited event took place in our lives: the first festive occasion in months, and the first of the summer. A real Rabourn festive occasion generally means a trip to Fridays, the local Chinese restaurant, a day off from school, or I cook something really yummy. Since the sky was clear and the sun was shinning, a BBQ was in order. Rita, Linda and I decided to run to the local grocery store and buy some chicken, potato salad (it was too late in the day to make my own) and vegetables for frying.
When we arrived home it was already 6:45. If you know anything about charcoal grills, you cannot put food over the coals until they are white, or your food will taste like lighter fluid, so I patiently awaited the coals, which dictated my cooking period; I think it took 15 or 20 minutes. Finally, the grill was ready. I placed the aluminum foil over the grate and laid the chicken on it to cook; in addition, I closed the vents to a quarter open to cut off the oxygen to stop any burst of flames. Closing the lid, I walked into my home to cook the zucchini, peppers, onions and garlic side dish. Every five or ten minutes I walked out and make sure that the chicken was not burning, and brushed on BBQ sauce for flavor. At this point, at least, all was going smoothly.
At about 7:45, Linda announced that she needed to go to bed in 15 minutes. Panicked, I foolishly removed the aluminum foil from the grate and started the finishing process, caramelizing the sauce and giving the chicken the gilled look. Let’s just say that I could have waited another 20 minutes. My festive dinner turned into a frustrating disaster, as I ended up cooking the outside of the chicken too fast. Now that the foil was removed, I could not turn back time; there was a danger that the inside would not properly cook.
With the clock ticking, I grabbed a piece of meat off the grill for Linda and put it in the microwave to make sure it was not bloody inside. (I hate cooking this way!) Knowing Linda wakes up very early in the morning to make it to work by 6:30, I felt even more pressure to feed her and get her off to bed. When she was almost done eating her (substandard) grilled chicken, ours was ready to eat. Slicing into mine I realized that it was still a bit pink by the bone. I cannot ever eat any chicken that is pink or red. Now my piece needed to go into the microwave. Anger at this meal threatened to burst out of me like a hidden volcano, but I “made me mind me” and deliberately calmed down.
Finally, we sat down to this epically frustrating meal, choosing to put a good face on it, to enjoy and relax. As much as everyone else seemed pleased with dinner, I was too agitated, more or less losing my appetite. I hate when a meal flops.
Lessons learned:
First, Don’t cook attached thighs and legs on the grill, as the meat is thicker on the thigh than the leg and often creates a problem. Cook cut thighs and legs.
Second, do not cook chicken on the grill if short on time. This meal will be a flop; chicken must be cooked slowly.
Third, do not remove the foil early no matter what; this only cooks the outside quickly and leaves the inside raw.
YUCK!
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