Here in Honolulu, as I'm sure can be well imagined, space is at quite a premium. As such, apartment complexes such as mine are forced to economize, meaning that our pool deck and the “shelter house” (for lack of a better term) are side by side. Under the shelter house are all the usual accoutrements, including picnic tables, grilles, etc.
Last Saturday, as I was going to sit poolside to read for a spell, a friend of mine that lives a few stories up happened to be grilling for his family. It being the 4th, they were trying to get into the spirit of things, this being their first time in America for the holiday, wanting to do things properly. As I happened by, he said hello and asked me to come take a look at his grille to make sure everything looked good. He thought they had “just a couple more minutes.”
Wanting to be helpful (and secretly hoping that some small morsel of meat might be sent my way), I gladly stepped over.
What I saw next caused me to recoil in terror. To this moment it is difficult for me to discuss, lying in wait behind my eyelids every time I try to fall asleep.
Four beautifully marbled, well marinated Wagyu beef steaks burned to within a millimeter of being charcoal briquettes.
NASA engineers are still trying to decipher the sound that escaped me as I dove for the gas valve, shutting off all power to the grille and snatching the steaks away from the flames. My friend (a relationship that is currently under review, I might add) stared at me like I was crazy, at which I then tried to explain to him what he had just done. After many minutes of clearly not getting through, I went online to find a chart to best illustrate….