It all started innocently enough. My wife, the culinary cutie that she is, tried to smoke a brisket using our gas grill. She was less than pleased with the results even though it was her first attempt. No complaints from me. I cleaned my plate with no problem. But as is human nature, dissatisfaction leads to searching…searching to discovery…discovery to spending money. That, by the way, seems to be the modern definition of the scientific method which in this case resulted in acquiring a Big Green Egg.
This wasn’t a decision we entered into on a whim. We both researched for several months to see if Green Eggdom was for us. We read articles. We looked at cookbooks. We talked to Eggheads. Soon our taste buds were about to burst with anticipation. Emotionally and scientifically, we had no choice. We purchased a Big Green Egg.
I say we “purchased”, but it would be just as accurate to say we joined a cult. Have you seen the EGGessories for these things? In addition to cookbooks and traditional grilling tools, there are wireless thermometers for monitoring the temperature. There are pizza stones, iron and stainless grill grates, even grill mitts. But wait, there’s more…much more including: the BGE key chain, koozie, corn hole game, water bottle, and perhaps best of all, the five-foot-tall MR. EGGhead inflatable. I’m not sure why you would want that, but I would imagine putting it too close to the B-G-E would be B-A-D. While those are pretty nifty, my favorites are the citronella candle that looks like a BGE and the string of twinkle lights that also look like glowing BGEs.
As a guy who loves trinkets, the aforementioned would have been enough to make me become an EGGhead. However, it was the taste of the chicken we cooked as our first rite of passage into EGGdom that makes me want to get a BGE tattoo (not really…well maybe one of those temporary ones like you used to get in Cracker Jack). It was so juicy. The smoke caressed the birds sinking deep into their skin and enhancing the effect of the marinade the in which they bathed before being sacrificed. I’m told it’s the dome shape that keeps the meat so moist. I don’t care if it’s a gnome that lives in the dome and sprinkles pixie dust on it. Good grief it’s EGGcellent!
Fortunately, my son came over the first time we used the BGE. Fortunate because he’s just finishing culinary school and the restaurant where he works has two large BGEs outside and a tiny one inside under its own range hood. Having his help cooking the birds was great. Learning his technique for lighting it was just as helpful. Seems he uses a culinary torch to get the coals going. It’s basically a propane torch you can use to sear meat, make a crème brulee, or weld a tow hook to a truck bumper. Quite the handy tool.
It’s not hard to spot a member of the BGE society. We smell like smoke, have a rack or two of ribs waiting in the fridge, and when you drive by our house on the weekend it looks like we’ve elected a new pope.
Now, back to the brisket. We recently plopped one onto the BGE. After marinating overnight and spending 8 hours being smoked, tented, and glazed the meat arrived on the plate. The moment was at hand and it did not disappoint.
More than the meat, it was the time spent in the smoke lane that made the day fantastic. There word “hurry” doesn’t exist in the vocabulary of a Big Green Egger. Slow is the way to go. It was a relaxing way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Best of all, we spent it together doing something be enjoy. Isn’t it interesting how a meal can nourish more than the body?
