Ours is a home divided. Or, I guess more specifically, a barbecue divided.
As is the case in many backyards across America, my guy is the lord of the grill. I mean, I know how to use it. Okay, fine, I’m ashamed to admit he showed me how to operate it last summer. Then I promptly forgot.
And so that silver behemoth gracing our patio? Totally his domain. And totally at odds with itself. On the left, an assortment of tossed veggies, Field Roast “sausages,” and the odd veggie burger. The right: meatopia, where steak and bratwurst reign.
To the left of the BBQ sits a bowl of pristine, would-never-deign-to-touch-meat marinade and its virgin brush. On the right, another batch of basting goods – these nice and thoroughly meat-tainted.
He understands a little better now, but at the beginning, my guy didn’t really “get” the vegetarian thing. He also didn’t need to. He knew it was important to me that my vegetarian vittles never touch meaty anything. And that was all he needed to know, because he is awesome like that.
And so, one grill, divided, became the name of the game. It’s a little more work and a few more dishes, sure, but the freshly grilled food and the feelings of goodwill that emerge make it well worth the effort.
One favorite meal-on-the-two-sided-grill? Shish kabobs. Because they’re made individually and easily segregated, they’re yet another foodstuff perfectly designed for our one-recipe-two-ways point of view.
Meat and non-meat shish kabobs placed dangerously close to one another for photographic purposes only
An assortment of snappy veggies – colorful bell peppers, fresh mushrooms, sweet onion wedges. Fresh hunks of pineapple. Generous slices of Field Roast for me. Marinated petite sirloin chunks plus spicy chicken sausage for him. And then the best part: a kicky Hawaiian teriyaki marinade to glaze the heck out of ‘em while they cook.
And! Bonus – the recipe makes just enough marinade so that you can reserve some to make a quick teriyaki sauce that’s perfect for drizzling over your fresh-off-the-grill kabobs and a mound of fluffy white rice.
Yeah, our grill may be living a double life, but it allows us to gather ’round the table as one. Proof positive, I think, that a little compromise and a lot of love go a long, long way.
