Husband and I will have been married 19 years this fall. I’ve made a LOT of meals in those 19 years, but it occurred to me that, somehow, I had never, ever, made him one of my favorites from childhood.

Many of my best meals and memories involved Dad at the grill. And not just any old grill – a charcoal grill he had built himself – out of an old steel drum and various other parts.

That’s Dad on the left, with the grill he made himself. That’s “Pop” on the right. And yes, that is his “casual look” for a BBQ. And I’m pretty sure that’s his signature White Horse Scotch he’s enjoying.

Same pose, different grill. And yet another fabulous barbecued meal.

While I was ALWAYS interested in what was coming off the grill growing up, I was never interested in learning to grill. It was intimidating to me.

Several years ago though, we took the plunge and bought a gas grill. Once home, I was surprised to learn that a grill had to be assembled. Husband assured me he would take care of it, and he did. He and a neighbor put the thing together in our LIVING ROOM. {The lighting was better?!}.

I wonder if Dad would have thought a gas model was blasphemous. I know he would have grinned the first time I opened the lid of a super hot grill – the intense heat instantly melted my mascara and momentarily sealed my eyes shut. I could almost hear him say “Bet you won’t do that again…!”

These days, though, it’s safe to say that I’m the master of the grill in our house. And I think of Dad every time I fire it up.

Related posts:

Grandpa Hollabaugh’s BBQ Sauce Barbecued Chicken Stew {…and a good idea gone bad} Bacon BBQ Trail Mix {a.k.a. Trail Mix for Carnivores}