Put Down the Tongs and Step Away From the BBQ

Last Sunday night Hubbie offered to help a friend install an air conditioning unit in his bedroom. His fiancé and I thought it would be a nice gesture to cook our men dinner after all their sweaty labor and picked up a few things at the market for a BBQ. We found 4 thick juicy rib eye steaks on sale so we snatched them up along with some corn, salad and fixins to make sangria. When we got back to their place we immediately put together the sangria because, well, that was the most important item and the rest could just be thrown together when the guys were ready. Before I know it we're 3 glasses deep and feeling a GREAT sangria buzz when the guys say they're hungry for dinner. My friend asks me to put the steaks on the grill and she'll heat up the beans and boil the corn. I tell her very clearly that I've never manned a BBQ and she insists it's no problem- just throw them on. She runs outside for a second and comes back in saying it's heating up and I can throw the steaks on in a minute. So I do.

And I left them on for all of 8 minutes. Which does NOT seem like a lot of time does it???

When I come back to flip them, what I see is 4 pieces of beef jerky, half the size of the steaks I had just put on minutes before. "What happened!?!?" I screamed to my friend in shock and horror, (with a slight slur from the sangria.) "OH CRAP, I forgot to tell you I had the BBQ on high to heat it up" my friend screams, (slurs,) from the kitchen.

With no way to repair them and nothing else to grill, we put the dog treats, (steaks) on a plate covered with foil. Is it possible that the “reverse-cooking” fairy would pay a visit to our Frisbees while we forced our husbands to drink heavily and eat their salads, corn and beans? Or, maybe they'd just forget all about the steaks we bought?!?

No such luck. As it turned out, we had to bring out the steaks and I'll never forget the look on their faces. As we all cut into our respective leathery discs, (which was no easy feat I tell ya) I say, “wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen steak turn white.” This prompts Hubbie’s friend to say, “wow, I don’t think I’ve seen dust come out of a steak before.” After a few more jokes about my steak being “the other white meat” we retired our meal and continued drinking into the night.

I gotta say the guys were pretty good sports and I’m really glad we got that meat on sale. I think I’ll stick to good ole’ stovetop cooking and leave the grilling to the men- or at least next time, try it sober.