Man Make Fire

At the weekend we enjoyed that time-honoured Aussie favourite, the barbecue. We did it the British way, however, and used a charcoal barbie (to use the local slang), something that proved hard to find and expensive to buy. We searched high and lo for one in the shops in central Karratha but all we could find were the kind powered by gas. We eventually found what we were looking for, a wonderful Weber charcoal beauty, in a hardware store out on an industrial estate. Australians are enamoured with the big gas barbies or, as we like to call them, outdoor grills. I understand why they use them – Australians love to barbecue everything so they might use their barbie three or four times a week, making the easier to clean, turn the knob and it’s ready to go gas jobs the hassle-free option. But when it comes down to it, they are just outdoor cookers – you don’t get that beautiful chargrilled barbecue flavour that, for me, really makes barbecued food so delicious. Besides, The Husband loves the whole manly ritual of lighting the barbie and, if the number of men surrounding it throughout the night was anything to go by, he’s not the only one. There’s something about men and fire. I suppose it goes back to the days of the cavemen, when fire equalled warmth and food. Men obviously still carry that primitive inbuilt survival mechanism that draws them to the flicker of a flame. I just sat back with a glass of bubbly and let them get on with proving their manliness and competing for the title of biggest steak. I love a good barbecue – the food, the aromas of sizzling meat, the al fresco dining, the chatter amongst friends. And of course I get a night off from cooking so I am more than happy to regularly let The Husband get his caveman fix.