Yesterday, in honor of the technical beginning of summer and all, I thought I would fire up the grill and make ribs. Yes, delicious, juicy, BBQ ribs. There is a method to the madness of making awesome ribs. My mother has it down to a science, to which she has passed along her secrets to me, and to the lucky women who end up with my brothers. Indy has sampled the ribs, and he is now obsessed with them. Not enough to make an honest woman out of me, but if he hears that ribs will be served at Mom's house, he can usually wrangle an invite out of someone.
So, last night, with ribs ready to go, I went out to the grill and tried to light it. No go. Even with a full tank of gas, the damn thing still wouldn't fire up. After much swearing and cursing, I gave up and finished my ribs in the oven. Because there is nothing better than running a hot oven in your house when it's 500 degrees outside.
The ribs were still good, but not the same.
This morning, I toiled, tickled, and cajoled the grill, and finally, I got it to fire up. It's amazing what one can accomplish when you turn the gas tank on.
Let the grilling season commence!
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