Food for too much thought

Like most, I enjoy the barbecue season, and I don’t just mean guarding the grill, beer in hand, tong armed and comedy apron attired. I mean the whole process, food preparation, marinades, sauces, salads, cooking, alfresco dining etc. As a mild pyromaniac, I was introduced to the barbecue at a fairly early age, perhaps as a vain attempt to channel my fire obsession, but more likely as a cleverly disguised chore. In those days our cooking device was little more than a stack of un-mortared bricks and a wire grill rack, but I used to revel in the process of getting the temperature/coals just right to ensure that my mum’s Indonesian recipe skewers (more on those in a future post) were cooked to perfection, and I rarely failed.