Burning [at] the steak

My neighbor and good friend, Linda, related her personal "bad food" tale to me yesterday, and I cannot let a good bad story go to waste. It's not unlike not letting a good crisis go to waste. But I digress.

Last year Linda bought a fancy, new propane bbq grill, but not being one to rush into things, she didn't assemble it until relatively recently. And not wanting to, you know, jump the gun and use it immediately, she waited for a few weeks.

At any rate, last weekend she decided it was time to test drive that bad boy, and she brought forth two ribeyes for the occasion. So far, so very good.

The electronic ignition made lighting the grill pretty darn simple, and after things had heated up sufficiently, Linda turned the knob to "low" and threw the steaks on.

Within a few minutes she noticed flames shooting out from under the grill lid, and when she opened it, she caught what I believe is known as "backdraft" in fire department lingo. For her efforts, she received singed eyebrows and a bad case of chapped lips.

But she did manage to grab the meat with tongs and get dinner on a plate.

Only problem was it was on fire. Dinner, that is. So using the best tool she had at hand, Linda bravely fought back the flames with... the tongs.

Whap! Sizzle! Pop! Holy A-1, Batman!

Eventually the flames died out, and Linda sat down to a, as she put it, "well, well done"  ribeye, one that gave a whole new meaning to burning [at] the steak.

Moral of the story? Simple.

Mountain women. Hardy. Courageous. Resourceful. And, most of all, hot.

ktg