Sausages bang on, honestly

THE ART OF BARBECUING:

Whether it’s a Bank Holiday weekend or a mildly sunny day, few things excite the British like the prospect of having a barbecue.

In most homes it’s the man who does the honours. Even if he can’t boil an egg, and in my defence it is really difficult to get the timings right, cometh the barbecue, cometh the chef.

On a very deep level men are and always have been hunter-gatherers so there’s a tremendous sense of pride in nipping to the shops to buy the meat and beer which is on offer before returning home with a meal for your dependants.

The ancestral blood begins to pump as you pop a few pork and apple sausages and some garlic prawns on to your gas-fuelled grill and it would be remiss of you not to acknowledge the connection with those who have gone before.

I’m guessing burnt dinner and food poisoning was a common feature of life hundreds of thousands of years ago as well, so the similarities just keep on coming.

The sausages are always ready first and they’re usually black, crispy and pink on the inside. Such is the paranoia which surrounds a barbecue, a brave victim is always selected to have the first taste. It can’t be the head chef because who would do the cooking if he’s being sick down the toilet?

The tester bites the sausage under the watchful eye of those around him. He’ll always burn his tongue before declaring through a mumbled mouthful that, “It’s alright actually.” And, to a cheer, the floodgates open.

“Who wants a sausage? They’re alright, honestly.” “Who wants a burger? I’ll just give it another minute. Honestly, those sausages are alright. Chicken and lamb chops are going on next.”

If a barbecue is properly organised there will be a table with salad and sauce, perhaps a tuna pasta and some baked potatoes with cheese on, plus a bucket of Rennies if you’re really pushing the boat out.

I don’t recommend turning up to a barbecue hungry. I did that a couple of weekends ago and was so keen that I accidently filled up on burnt sausages. By the time all the fancy food graced the grill I was stuffed.

So pace yourself and enjoy eating in the fresh air in the company of friends and family. When the weather is as poor as ours tends to be, you’ll probably remember a barbecue on a sunny day as one of the highlights of your summer.


Next week . . . The Art of being Disappointed.