I Need a New Grill

So I was making beets for dinner, and if you read my last post, you know that there is a great deal of controversy surrounding the edibility of beets. I figured that if my guys were going to be happy at suppertime, I had better make something of the non-vegetable variety, so I chose a Teriyaki London broil on the grill.



Those who know me well know that I'm cheap. I prefer to say "thrifty", because it sounds like I'm not pinching pennies as much as being conservative with my resources. Rich and I have long been conservative with our resources. We have owned the same grill for 13 years. That may not seem like a very long time compared with other things people own, but we've talked to plenty of people who have replaced their grills after 5 years, or even 3 years. This includes folks who are very careful to cover their grills after each use and put them away in the garage for the winter. Some of these people are the type who buy top-of-the-line stainless steel grills and use them maybe once a month, and still find it necessary to replace them after only a few years.



I, however, am a year-round griller. I grill in almost all weather. I draw the line at blizzard conditions, but if the snow isn't falling, we shovel a path on the deck. The grill is on the deck, uncovered all four seasons. I'd never use it, otherwise. So this hunk of metal has taken quite a beating. Rich, my dear handy husband, has replaced the burners, the igniter, and other parts that I'm not smart enough to identify on several occasions. He has used stoveblack to spruce it up as well as disassembled the wooden handles and shelves to sand and stain them. We hate to go out and spend a fortune on something that we can revive, and we especially hate the idea of adding to the junkyard waste.



We had made up our minds this year to finally get a new grill. This one was becoming more and more problematic. It's been getting harder to find correctly sized replacement parts, and it is starting to rust through in some spots. One of the more fun problems was the hot spot that developed front and center on the grill. Flames were continually shooting up several inches right where my wrist needed to be to flip any burger or tong any hot dog. As much as I enjoy the experience of burning my arm hair when I cook, I figured it wasn't a viable long-term situation.



I was proven right about the lack of viability this week when I was making the Teriyaki steak. It was one of those days that was sunny, but rain showers kept coming every few moments anyway. I've grilled many times in the rain without any ill effects, so I wasn't concerned when I closed the lid on the London broil after searing it to be sure it cooked through. I stepped into the house to check the potatoes and grab a clean serving platter, and returned to the deck to find the glass front completely shattered, with glass shards all over the beef.

Keep in mind that I am cheap. I mean "thrifty". My first instinct was to wash the steak off like I do when the boys drop their lollipops in the dirt. Rich had the sense to make me throw the whole thing away. He supervised as I did, too. I know he is right. The 5 or 6 dollars I was tossing was nothing compared to the cost of a bit of glass lodged in the intestine leading to sepsis or some such icky thing. Incidentally, I know where my cheapness comes from. When I related the story to my mother, she said, (and I am not making this up), "Why didn't you just wash the meat off?"

Fortunately, we had some hot dogs in the fridge that I could make. Not quite the meal I had intended, but they made the beets go down easier for the kids.