Week 135: Grilled Chicken
Practice, practice, practice…
Each Sunday, my wife and I cook and eat a meal together — intentionally. Every Friday, I’ll be sharing our experience here in this space. I want to see the growth that will come in our marriage because of this. I hope you enjoy our story. You can find last week’s post here.
This week’s story is about our Sunday experience grilling and eating barbecue chicken together. But before I get to that, there’s some backstory that you need.
When we lived in our apartment, there was a rule that we couldn’t have a grill on our deck. It made sense, but we always missed that opportunity for cooking options when summer came around.
Once we moved to our house, that rule no longer applied. But, as summer came to a close, we still hadn’t gotten a grill. From move-in, to camp, to other large expenses, we simply hadn’t gotten around to it. Now, summer was in the rearview, but that doesn’t mean we can’t grill, right?
I hope the answer is yes, because one night in September, we up and bought a grill.
Some Assembly Required
We bought the grill at around dinner time, but we couldn’t cook quite yet. We had to put the thing together first. It said that it took about 30 minutes to assemble. We were skeptical, but we went ahead undettered.
An hour later, but with our pride still intact, the grill was complete.
We had accomplished the task together, something I always enjoy. Though, let me give a big shout out to my wife here, she clearly did most of the work. If you’re one who thinks girls aren’t strong or can’t handle manual labor, get a clue. My wife has some #GirlPower, and she’s never met a job she can’t handle. I love seeing her spring into action. When she puts her mind to something, she doesn’t stop until she’s done. She gets the mindset from her dad, but she has made it all her own. She is a force to be reckoned with, and she proved that on this night.
Me on the other hand? My night was just getting started…
Practice Makes Perfect
When I was in high school, I played on the basketball team. My basketball coach would often repeat the same phrase during practice.
Practice doesn’t make perfect. Perfect practice makes perfect.
His goal was to get us to try our hardest in practice so that we would perform better in the games. It makes sense. But there is a problem with this idea.
There’s no such thing as “perfect” practice.
None of us are perfect. We don’t get everything right. I certainly don’t think I ever had anything near a perfect practice in high school. In fact, I’ve never had a perfect practice. It simply doesn’t happen.
So what does this have to do with grilling?
Well, I had never grilled with charcoal before that night in September. Like I said, we bought the grill around dinner time, then we assembled it. By the time I started grilling, the sun was beginning to set. We still had not eaten.
I put a few pieces of charcoal on and then I put on the lighter fluid. So far so good. Then I lit the charcoal and closed the…
…oops. I wasn’t supposed to close the lid when the charcoal was heating up.
No worries. I opened the lid back up and let the charcoal burn for a while. I thought “a while” meant five minutes or so. When I came out to put the chicken on, the charcoal was only just beginning to show some ash. But I had no idea what that meant, so I put the chicken on.
We waited. And waited. And waited.
I kept flipping the chicken and checking the temperature. For some reason, the chicken’s internal temperature just wasn’t hot enough. By this time we were both getting really hungry. This is when I realized two things.
One — I had not put enough charcoal on in the beginning. Two — I had not given the charcoal enough time to burn and turn into hot coals. So, I put more charcoal on and let it burn. Finally, the grill was hot enough, and the chicken was cooked.
We ate at about 11:30 pm that night. The only reason I’m smiling in the picture above is that it was taken before I started grilling.
Gametime
None of that was actually part of this particular Sunday. But, just a few weeks after that fateful first grilling attempt, we were back at it on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.
This time I put lots of charcoal on and I left the cover open. I also let the charcoal burn for a while before I brought the chicken anywhere near it. See? I can learn.
This time, everything went smoothly. The grill was hot, the chicken cooked through, and we ate before it was time to go to bed. In all seriousness, we had a wonderful dinner together. I grilled the chicken, and Sarah boiled the corn and made the potatoes.
I guess the moral of the story is that “perfect” should just be taken out of the equation altogether. Practice may not make perfect, but that’s only because we’re never going to get to perfect, so why make that the goal? No, I think practice makes better. While that may not be as pithy or look as good on a bumper sticker, I think it’s true.
So, I guess my encouragement to you this week is this…
…practice something.
Give it your best shot. Even if the practice doesn’t go so well, try it again. I’m sure the next time you try it, you’ll be better at it. Then just keep practicing.
My first experience with charcoal wasn’t so hot. But after some practice, I was able to grill some pretty good barbecue chicken, if I do say so myself. Practice makes better.
So what will you practice?
