Orlando Sentinel

Mix it up on the grill for summer cookouts

- By James P. DeWan

Well, it’s nigh on three full moons since the ol’ ’Rona put a hitch in our collective giddy-up. And I, for one, find myself daily taking less delight in my own company.

Happily, that nice man on the Motorola said there’ll soon be a vaccine. And on that frabjous day, when we feel salubrity’s needle prick, boy howdy, there’ll be a humdinger of a do. I’ll be ringing up family and friends — Uncle Nedula, Cousin Florn, Madge — and we’re gonna party like it’s 1999. All over again.

So, bust out the charcoal and rifle through the junk drawer for a box of matches. We’re making a mixed grill.

Why you need to learn this

We’ll meet again. Don’t know where, don’t know when, but, I know we’ll meet again some sunny day. And when we do, by cracky, we’re going to eat. And few things short of a full-on manna-drop satiate the masses like a good oldfashion­ed mixed grill.

The steps you take

The thing about a mixed grill is that, first off, it’s called a “mixed grill.” Not a “mixed barbecue.” Or a “mixed marriage,” the term my mother used to use to refer to a wedding between a Catholic and a Protestant.

Apostate abominatio­ns aside, I just don’t want to get all caught up in the whole grill versus barbecue thing. Potato. Potato. Homoousios. Homoiousio­s. Suffice it to say that grilling is done directly over live coals — like your soul in Hell — and, as such, is used for thinner cuts of meat like steaks, chops, chicken breasts, etc. Large cuts of meat — your briskets, your pork shoulders, your camel humps, your mastodon hams — are not good for this type of cookery because their outsides are going to be burned like the front row of a Don Rickles show (“I’ll take Hoary Cultural References for six hundred, please, Alex”) before their insides have even started to get warm.

So, small cuts of meat it is.

Ah, but what small cuts of meat, you ask like I’m Hillel the Elder. To which I say, what do you like? Sausages? Beef? If not cow, lamb. And speaking of lamb, listen to this: Many early discussion­s of and recipes for the “mixed grill” included lamb kidneys. Mull on that for a hot minute. Lamb kidneys.

Americans don’t like lamb that much in the first place. Too gamy. Too cute. You can imagine, then, that that tiny lamb’s little kidney is not going to be high on most people’s list of Things I Want to Put in My Mouth. In a nutshell, I’d eschew the organ meats altogether. After all, is it coincidenc­e that offal and awful are homonyms? Just asking.

Let’s keep it simple, then, with a delectable selection of smaller cuts of meat, maybe some sausage, and, of course, vegetables.

Now, I’m aware that putting vegetables on the grill violates the He-Man’s Code of Consumptio­n. But, for the love of Mike, what are we, Visigoths? Bob Dylan was absolutely right about the times: They are a-changin’.

The aforementi­oned USDA notes that our beef consumptio­n has dropped about 40% since the 70s. And, yes, I know that in that same time period our consumptio­n of chicken has more than doubled, but, hey, chicken is like the vegetables of meat, amirite? (I’m expecting a visit from the PETA goons for that one.)

Look, vegetables are easy to do on the grill, and a big platter of them looks beautiful. Here’s my advice: Drop planks of bell peppers or quarter- to half-inch slices of eggplant or summer squash into a quick marinade (equal parts soy sauce and water with a splash of sesame oil and maybe some fresh or powdered garlic, onion and ginger; or, just some bottled Italian dressing). Grill them before your guests arrive and arrange them bewitching­ly on a serving platter, then cover them loosely with plastic to keep off the murder hornets. They’ll hold at room temp up to four hours, or, do them the day before and pull them from the fridge an hour before dinner. They’re delicious splashed with a little extra-virgin olive oil.

And while we’re talking about vegetables, would it literally kill you dead to make a salad? Make two salads. Have one of them be like a pasta salad or a potato salad. Remember: starches are cheap.

But, back to the meat. Here’s more good advice: Remember that we love grilling not just because it shivers our DNA to think of Pleistocen­e Pete and his mate, Gnorgu, shoving racks of auroch into the fire hole. We also love the smoky flavors and the beautiful grill marks. Happily, both of those latter features can be achieved quickly, which means you can cook your meat in advance and then, when the guests arrive, finish it on the grill. Here’s what you do:

Before the party starts, do as much of the cooking as you can on the stovetop or in the oven. Think how easy it would be to roast together some boneless pork chops or a bunch of chicken breasts or leg portions, or to simmer a heap of brats or Italian sausages in your favorite beer.

Or, if you’re extra cool, you could get one of those sous vide cooking machines. In case you’re late to that particular party, those are the things where you encase your food in a vacuum-sealed bag (sous vide means “under vacuum” in some language like French or Esperanto) and then submerge it in a small vat of swirling, temperatur­econtrolle­d water.

When the food reaches the temperatur­e of the water (say, 130-degrees F for a medium-rare sirloin), you free it from its plastic cocoon then sear it on the stovetop or — and here’s why I’m mentioning this — the grill. Done. Perfection in a Plastic Bag should be a registered trademark of the sous vide industry. Or a state-of-the-art mummificat­ion facility.

Regardless of your initial cooking method, when Madge and the gang finally show, all you need to do is throw everything on the grill long enough to pick up some nice smoke flavor while branding grill marks onto the surface. Just about any piece of meat can be cooked in advance and held or refrigerat­ed until being finished on the grill. One caveat: Really skinny cuts, such as minute steaks or thin-cut pork chops, don’t need the precooking because they’ll take just a couple minutes on the grill anyway.

The last thing I want to address is the serving of your mixed marriage. I mean mixed grill. I know that half of our American identity is tied to the consumptio­n of large hunks of meat. The other half is mostly rage-tweeting. But, when I say the word “meat” to you, aren’t you already conjuring the 20-ounce rib-eyes, the double-ribbed pork chops, the belly-busting burgers?

But, here’s a thought: What if we serve the same food, but, instead of plopping an entire identifiab­le chunk of animal on the plate like you’re Fred Flintstone, why not render it all into smaller, more manageable bites? (Here’s where I get the emails addressed to “Dear Pantywaist.”) That way, even your guests who are not freshly back from sacking Rome can take exactly the portion they want.

And one last thing — don’t be a hater: Grill some tofu. I know, I know, but trust me. Marinate some extra firm tofu like you would anything else, then mark it on the grill and serve it with a sauce. You’ll be shocked — shocked! — to see how fast it disappears.

Sauces and salsas to try

And speaking of sauce, since I feel guilty about the endless and recipeless prattle, not to mention the blithering and blathering, here are a few easy ideas for sauces and salsas to serve with whatever comes off the grill. Don’t forget to add salt.

Fresh herb sauce: Think chimichurr­i. Buzz fresh herbs — cilantro, parsley, tarragon, mint or some combinatio­n — in a blender with red wine vinegar or sherry vinegar, extra-virgin olive oil, garlic and crushed red pepper flakes.

Tarator: Whisk together a 4-to-3 ratio of tahini to lemon juice, then whisk in water until it’s the consistenc­y you like. Add some crushed garlic, salt and, if you’ve got it in the garden, some minced parsley.

Tomatillo salsa: Broil or grill husked tomatillos, then buzz in a blender to your desired level of chunkiness with fresh or charred jalapenos and garlic, diced fresh onion and fresh cilantro. You can also omit the cooking for a sauce with a fresher bite.

Fruit salsa: Dice juicy fresh fruit (melons, strawberri­es, peaches, mangoes, etc.) and toss with diced onion, cilantro (if you don’t possess the aversion in which it tastes like soap), jalapeno (or chile of your choice) and fresh lime juice. If it’s too tart, add a splash of extra virgin olive oil.

 ?? TERRENCE ANTONIO JAMES/CHICAGO TRIBUNE PHOTOS; SHANNON KINSELLA/FOOD STYLING ?? If you do a little advance work, you’ll just need to throw everything on the grill long enough to pick up some nice smoke flavor and grill marks.
TERRENCE ANTONIO JAMES/CHICAGO TRIBUNE PHOTOS; SHANNON KINSELLA/FOOD STYLING If you do a little advance work, you’ll just need to throw everything on the grill long enough to pick up some nice smoke flavor and grill marks.
 ??  ?? A platter of grilled vegetables, meats and tofu are only enhanced with an accompanyi­ng sauce. Try tarator, a blend of tahini, lemon juice, crushed garlic, salt and minced parsley.
A platter of grilled vegetables, meats and tofu are only enhanced with an accompanyi­ng sauce. Try tarator, a blend of tahini, lemon juice, crushed garlic, salt and minced parsley.

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