How Not to Grill Steaks

Sometimes I wonder how I made it this far. I mean – I like to think of myself as at least a reasonably intelligent guy. Well, I know I’m not stupid. But last night I did something that made me believe otherwise.

Check this out. We had a party. There were like twenty-five people over, and the plan was to cook steaks for everyone. My grill isn’t really all that big. You can fit like six to eight steaks on it at a time. When I found out that many people were coming, I had to run to the store and get another six pack of steaks. I cooked almost twenty steaks last night. For real. I had every single one of my big ass platters (all three) out and was preparing these steaks on them. Marinade. Steak salt. Worcestershire sauce. Liquid Smoke. The works. These steaks kicked serious amounts of ass.

Anyway, I was drinking Corona and talking with some of the fellas while I cooked and worked on these steaks. We had several cases of beer in the fridge and in coolers dispersed throughout the house. Let me back up a little and tell you about earlier in the day. Saturday morning was a laundry morning. We washed probably fifteen loads of laundry throughout the day. And brought them upstairs and folded them on the bed. That’s where we left them. On the master bedroom bed. It got hot while we were folding the clothes, so we opened the windows. When we got finished we closed the door, and left it closed during the party so no one would see all our clothes on the bed. You see where this is going yet?

My grill is directly beneath one of the windows of the master bedroom. Ahem. My master bedroom and every piece of clothing I own smells like a steakhouse. We’re talking like twenty steaks’ worth of smoke, people. Four at a time, five minutes a side. That’s no less than fifty minutes of grilling. And technically it was closer to an hour and a half when all was said and done. I’m now wondering if I’ll ever be able to eat steak again. I woke up all night last night smelling it in my pillows and stuff. And in the air in the room. I may get sick tonight. Or I may sleep on the couch.

Share

You may also like...

1 Response

  1. I Drive Over Old People says:

    haha! you dumbass. your lucky at least you weren’t cooking curry or something.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *