In many households, mine included, barbecuing is the man’s job. But with the Captain away, what’s a girl to do? Although I’d had little practice with the barbecue, I thought I would grill some burgers for myself. I knew that if I made them too thin they might fall between the grate, so into the hamburger, I mixed some chopped onion, some finely cubed bits of bread, and an egg. I made nice fat patties, four of them, so I could reheat a couple tomorrow, and I put them on the grill with a bit of barbecue sauce on top.
After a while I tried to turn them. That was a bit messy. The first one broke up. You can see that a lot of the burger components fell through the grate. I would have to bring the patties in and fry them in the pan after all. I brought the first broken one in and set it in the pan.
Kind of a mess but at least I could finish cooking it. I decided that I might as well bring in the other three burgers and give up on the barbecue idea.
But when I tried to take the burgers off the grill, they broke up badly. I gathered up the barbecue sauce and the brush and the plate of burger meat – oh, and the portable phone I had out on the deck in case the Captain called. With all these things in my arms I tried to maneuver the sliding screen door open.
A lot more of the burger meat fell on the floor than what you see here, but I slapped as much as I could back onto the plate.
This gave new meaning to the term, “a dog’s breakfast.”
My vest, full of barbecue sauce went straight into the washing machine, and while I was downstairs I let the dogs into the house. Darned if I was going to clean up that mess by myself. I let them help – and they did an excellent job. They left the onion pieces for the last, but they ended up eating those too. Very thorough, they were!