Flame ON!

We have spent the last two weeks waiting for two "potentials" to call us up for an evening of grilling, beer, and fun. Oddly enough, we are still waiting; however, the grilling did not. First, we had to locate the Weber. Where does a broke 'n single girl keep her charcoal grill? Oh yes: her trunk. Although in possession of said grill for approximately eight months, we have only utilized it twice, both times under the close supervision (okay, scrutiny) of a male. After dusting off the ol' cooking machine, we heated up the charcoal (not once, but twice) in a handy-dandy "chimney." Then comes the cooking...

Problem #1: could not find low-fat, plain yogurt. Solution #1: it was a Weight Watchers recipe, so we are certain that full-fat, plain yogurt was just fine. Now, our first solo adventure with charcoal grilling involved kabobs. Problem #2: no bowl big enough to soak skewers. Solution #2: empty wine bottle, fill with water, insert skewers. Problem #3: seeing that we are single city girls, we do not have a backyard or a deck. Solution #3: block the only sidewalk going into the building with the smoking chimney and charcoal and put the grill in the front yard bordering the busiest street in the city. What can we say? SAFETY FIRST.

Perhaps it was the folding chairs on the front lawn, or maybe the $2 bottle of wine, or possibly even the amazing tan lines, but we got more cat calls tonight than we have in the last several months. (And by that, we mean one car honked - probably because the old man in front of them was going 20 miles an hour. However, our egos, buoyed by our success with the charcoal chimney, loved it.)

After finally figuring out how to cook with charcoal, we waited...and waited...and waited some more. We were so intrigued by the satisfying sizzle and thought the kabobs were done, therefore opening the grill...only to find raw chicken dripping marinade on the completely cooled charcoal. Good thing we brought the bottle of wine downstairs. We then acquiesced and called...a boy. Not wanting to compromise our reputation as independent, fearless females, said boy was...a brother who completely made fun of us for not understanding the most basic principle of charcoal grilling: allowing air to "feed the fire."

Interestingly enough, once we opened the holes on the top of the grill, the kabobs cooked quite nicely. Accompanying our peanut butter chicken kabobs are roasted, parmesan-salted cherry tomatoes; and Brussels sprout with bacon, brown sugar, shallot, and sherry. (We told you we cook with wine...)