The Grill and You: A Feminist Manifesto
At some point during the long summer months, one has to reckon with one’s relationship with the grill — especially if one is a she. I’m not sure why, but the trope still persists these days that the male of the species gets the grill and the female gets the rest of the cooking. This is changing, of course, but you only have to tally which sex has authored 99 percent of the grilling cookbooks ever published to understand that we still have a long way to go.
As a single girl, I first had to come face to face with the honest truth that nearly anything cooked on the grill is better than its version not cooked on the grill by a factor of 10. Therefore, I needed to start grilling on my own and not wait for a boy to wander in and do it for me.
This was not an unpleasant task, not by any means. In fact, except for some unexamined internalized Fear of The Grill, I discovered that I feel pleasantly at ease when confronted with a tub of hot coals and some raw meat in need of cooking. There’s power and joy to be found in understanding when the coals are just right or pulling a perfectly cooked burger off the grill in a puff of smoke and flame.
So if you’re a girl who has never grilled, get on it now before summer is over. Yes, it’s a little messy and smoky, but not overly so. If meat isn’t your forte, grill long silky ribbons of zucchini or bumpy ears of corn still wrapped in their husks.
If you’re a girl who is already emancipated and has her girl grill thing going strong, mentor other girls with an all-girl grill out. And if you’re a boy, don’t worry — there’ll still be plenty of hot charcoal briquets for everyone.