New Orleans Style

I had a brilliant idea for a delightful lunch al fresco in our back yard with my kids. Just look at their happy little faces. They are so optimistic, even after watching me battle the flames that were engulfing their food on the grill moments before. They were such a supportive audience for my grilling efforts, saying politely, "Um, Mom, are you sure you know how to do that?"
From behind a wall of sizzling flame, I answered, "Yeah! This is easy! We should grill every meal!"
Ari asked, "But why is it on fire?" As if she trusts me that the meat is supposed to be on fire, and that I, in all my Mommy Omnicience (momnicience?), will know why and will be able to explain it. So I gave it a shot.
"Well, it's New Orleans style! That's how they do it down there." I don't even know what that means, but I didn't want to say, "Well, because I'm an idiot!"

I learned three things today. One, barbecuing bacon is a risky, and fiery, proposition. Two, I should have paid more attention to Scott when he was explaining to me how he gets everything to grill to perfection. And three, cats love charred chicken wrapped in bacon. Kids, not so much. After Golda asked me if the chicken was supposed to be grey, nobody would eat it. So the cat and I are really full of carcinogenic meat, and the kids are really full of Kool-Aid and pretzels. I guess it's back to hot dogs and grapes three times a day. I'm saving up my creativity for non-culinary endeavors.