Grillmasters, part 1

This weekend my dad and stepmom came to visit, and to see the new house. We had family and a few close friends over on Saturday, for the first of many (or at least several) housewarmings. In spite of the fires raging around the Southland, we cooked burgers, dogs, and chicken drumsticks over a borrowed charcoal grill.

Indeed, we are good citizens.

But we didn’t set fire to anything–not even the food–and a good time was had by all.

The next day, the four of us (Mr. Sandwich, Sandwich Père, Sandwich Belle-mere, and me) traveled to more than one hardware store so that we could host future events–and just cook dinner–on a grill of our own. We decided on propane; while both of us appreciate the romance of the charcoal grill, we also appreciate the ease and predictability of propane.

Last night I stopped by the supermarket to pick up a New York strip steak for the inauguration of our new grill. We sprinkled Barbecue of the Americas (a Penzeys spice mix), black pepper, and rosemary, and let it sit for 30 minutes. Then we grilled it about three and a half minutes per side, so that it was seared on the outside and pink in the middle.

The rest of the meal? Maple-glazed carrots, mashed potatoes, and the ubiquitous Ranch Style Beans for Mr. Sandwich. (He does love those beans.)

I don’t have the camera on me, so photos will come in a later post.