I grew up in a place where people had neither 'cue, nor clue. It was in New York City, where until roughly 25 years ago, most folks thought “BBQ” referred to a summertime party around the Weber on which hot dogs and hamburgers were “barbecued.” The “chef” — usually Dad on a weekend — was just talented enough to drizzle some charcoal starter on the briquettes, prick open the bag of Oscar Mayer “Franks,” and get that party started. Oy [...]
↧