I’m going to have to be terse since my computer battery is low and the people next to me at this cafe are smoking ciggy-butts and they smell bad.
More to the point: When you think of a BBQ, what comes to mind? Raw meat? Beef? Testosterone? Grunting and stuff? Men being men surrounding red hot embers and fire? Well, you’re right, because that’s basically BBQ’ing in a nutshell.
I’ve been in Girona for two nights and I’ve had two consecutive BBQs and they’ve both been awesome. The first was up with my buddies Tom, Allie, and Mara. The evening was entertaining from the start because the cheap little BBQ they bought somehow omitted legs, but they were obviously supposed to have legs as shown on the side of the box. But with a little manly ingenuity (and some logs and rocks) we crafted “legs” for the BBQ. On a very arbitrary scale that I’ll dub a “Safety Scale” this would rate about a 4, so don’t worry: we weren’t going to burn the place down.
Here’s Tom very masculinely rocking a mustache and about to light the grill.
And me, bravely wielding some tongs for the sake of flipping some veggies and beef and sausage.
Art is also manly and full of testosterone, so here’s a picture courtesy of Charlie… who is just 8 years old. This is an artful picture of me through his hand.
What’s more manly than beef and steak and stuff? Marshmallows! Although Spanish ‘shmallows leave something to be desired (…namely a big, awesomely white American one). Here the marshmallows are a) small b) pink with green or yellow centers and c) star shaped. So that was kind of weird, but they still taste like heaven… or at least one-third of a ‘smore.
Yikes, my computer battery is running frightfully low. Time to type fast…
On my second night in town I received an invitation to yet another BBQ! So I headed over to arguably Girona’s biggest terrace at Nick and Kate’s place where we had another testosterone rich evening of steak, sausage, chicken, other fine meats, and wine spilling. It was delicious yet again.Sadly it’s 6:20pm and I haven’t yet received an invitation to third consecutive BBQ, so I might resort to something else. But you never know what’ll turn up…