Since we moved here from the Sunshine State you'd think that we're a couple of beach-hopping, jet-skiing, barbecuing enthusiasts. But when it comes down to it, we were terrible Floridians.
Over the course of 5 years we went to the beach a total of 4 times. We stayed as far away from our complex's swimming pool as possible. And we never barbecued.
We wanted to be lean, mean, fat-reducing, grilling machines but every time we tried to barbecue, disaster ensued.
There was an unfortunate incident with a charcoal grill that we bought, only to be returned to Target less than 24 hours later due to our complete incapability to keep the coals lit.
Then there was the weekend we rented a cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Georgia, where we grilled an amazing meal on the front porch. An hour later I was on the bathroom floor begging for an ambulance in what we can only assume was an allergic reaction to someone else's shellfish remnants on the grill.
My only memory of that night is of still being awake and in pain at 2 a.m. while Bobby rubbed my back. We watched bad infomercials until we both finally passed out.
|My sweet grill master.|
I'm happy to report that we've grilled more meals over the past 2 weeks than we have over the course of our entire relationship. We're one step closer to becoming the easy breezy, outdoorsy, chicken-on-the-barbie type of people we never were in Florida. Funny that we had to move 1300 miles away to accomplish this.
I feel we've had enough practice this month to move us from novices to the intermediate level. And so I'm feeling confident enough to offer up a bbq recipe of our very own - pineapple-marinated chicken thighs with grilled maple peaches. We made this last night and we both agreed it was the single most flavorful meal we've had in a long time.