Did I mention I have never grilled jalapeño poppers before? You probably know where this story is going. If I live to be a hundred-years old, I will never grill them again. I use a ceramic grill that requires lump charcoal. Actually, the General had several things she wanted me to grill in the course of the morning. Consequently, I used a lot of lump charcoal. Did I mention that I had a really hot grill before I got started? I was a little surprised to see that the thermometer was registering 700 degrees.
That seemed excessively hot, so I closed a few vents in hopes I could drop the temperature to about 500 degrees. That was just an estimated guess of what I needed. That temperature works great for searing steaks. According to the General, the recipe for the poppers indicated the need to bake them in the oven for 20 to 25 minutes. I figured with the kind of heat I was using on the grill, it would take a lot less time.
I'm sure you have already figured out that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I was about halfway through the process of putting poppers on the grill when the flames began to engulf the poppers. I quickly closed the grill thinking the flames would subside. I went back inside the house for only a moment. When I returned, smoke was emerging from the grill vents at a level I've never seen before. Wow! The smoke was thick and pouring out the top of the vent.
My first thought was holy smokes. I have absolutely no frame of reference to the election of a new pope, but looking at the amount of smoke coming from my grill reminded me of the Sistine Chapel at the Vatican. One of the most famous traditions of the papal succession ritual is the appearance of smoke from the chimney of the conclave room.
Since there was no relationship to papal succession and whether or not the jalapeño poppers were burned to a crisp, I immediately opened the grill. My first impression was that the poppers were done. My second impression was ouch! I was using long tongs, but the rising flames that immediately emerged were too close for comfort. As quickly as I could, I moved all the poppers from the grill.
They say you live and learn. I resolved immediately that I would use the upper level grill rather than the larger lower grill next to the fire for the next batch. I took the first round of poppers inside and explained to the General that the plan for me to grill the poppers wasn’t working particularly well.
She stopped short of giving me a lecture, but she did remind me that she had suggested I use some kind of pan between the poppers and the charcoal to preclude the bacon grease from dropping into the fire. Okay, so the General is brilliant. However, we did NOT have a pan that would work with my grill. Consequently, I opted to use the upper level grill. Fortunately, I placed the poppers on the grill without wishing for asbestos gloves to protect my hands. I was obviously on to something. This was going to work much better than using the lower level grill.
Closing the grill, I walked back into the house. When I returned, the General told me that the first round of poppers needed to go back on the grill. Only the outer level of bacon was cooked. The rest of it was still raw. Oh man! This was not going well.
When I got back outside, smoke was thick again. I opened the grill and was startled by the discovery that the flames were reaching the upper rack. Every pepper I had placed on the grill was burned to a crisp. What an absolute mess!
I used the long tongs to remove the poppers from the grill. Rather than taking them inside to the kitchen, I took them immediately to the garage and put them in the trash receptacle. Did I mention my mood level could definitely use some improvement?
I wasn’t accusatory when I reported to the General that doing the poppers on the grill wasn’t a good idea. In passing, she made some comment related to, “I told you…” but I let it go. Hopefully, I could salvage the first batch I had grilled. I would stand at the grill and watch while they cooked.
Okay, so I’m a slow learner. If you want a flaming fire, bacon grease added to the charcoal is an incredibly effective tool to use. Quick as a flash, the first round of poppers looked very much like the second round. They, too, didn’t get honorable mention in the kitchen. I took them directly to the trash.
So who was to blame? It was irrelevant. I took one look at the General and she ordered me to simply let it go. “Take a deep breath and let it go. It is Thanksgiving, we are going to be thankful.” What could I say, but “Yes Ma’am.”? I don’t really think the charred poppers were God’s way of communicating that bacon isn’t good for your cholesterol level, but the day turned out to be delightful. The food was scrumptious and the fellowship was very pleasant.
So what did I learn from the day? The General was correct. The suggestion (mandate) to take a deep breath and let it go was sound advice. I guess that is closely akin to, “Don’t cry over spilled milk.” Why be upset over something that has already happened and can’t be changed?
The day turned out to be a joyous Thanksgiving celebration. Piano music provided by my next-door neighbor and subsequently by my sister-in-law helped set the stage for what proved to be a glorious day. As we joined hands prior to our prayer of Thanksgiving before the meal, I asked that each person present share one thing for which they were thankful. Surprisingly, there was variety in the expressions that were provided. It became clear that the folks with whom we share life and the God who gave us life are the source of that which matters most.
All My Best!
Don