Summertime is Barbecue time

Posted by Jennifer W. Miner Jun 13, 2006

Getting my kids to help cook dinner used to be easy, as they were eager to take part in whatever activity I was doing. But lately, they seem to have lost their enthusiasm. Could it be that they really know how to prepare Hamburger Helper and microwaved broccoli-with-melted-cheese so well, that it's gotten boring? Perhaps. These days, they prefer to sit at the kitchen table and draw with magic markers while the ground meat browns, or the noodles boil. Or the chicken shake-and-bakes. While I have received several lovely gifts of updated "family portraits" from the kids, part of me misses the days when dinner preparation was filled with "it's MY turn to stir!" and "She licked off the spoon and got her GERMS on it!" Not to mention my constant admonishments about the hazards of the hot stove. Sigh: The Good Old Days.

But when it's summertime, and they see their father ceremoniously unwrap his barbecue tools, it's another story. The scramble to be first in line to help daddy grill up some steaks on the BBQ brings to mind the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona. Only, they're the bulls, and I am some innocent pedestrian.

While their father delegates responsibility and my youngest remembers her only-hot-dogs rule of acceptable barbecued dinners, I prep the steaks with a little salt and freshly-ground pepper. Prime grade steaks, grilled right, require little else in terms of seasoning. My oldest sets the table, carefully folding our napkins the way she's seen it done in fancy restaurants, and my youngest wraps the corn in tin foil. There's music playing, my kids are laughing and joking around with their dad, and the foody smells coming off the grill are mouth-watering. I sit back, glass of Napa Valley Merlot in hand, and smile. How could I forget? These are the good old days.