And then it got hot

In the space of two weeks in April it went from winter to summer. As a good Englishman, at the first sign of the sun I rushed out to buy a barbecue. Unfortunately, given that the only method I have of transporting one from a shop to my apartment is my arms, I had to buy the smallest one I could find as even relatively light things tend to sting after you've carried them for a mile. In true style I managed to find an impressively cheap and small barbecue - coming in at a total of $6 plus tax. Get in. So we got it back and realised that we didn't have any of the required tools to build it so I had to go searching in the building's gargantuan basement for a screwdriver. It seems that most American houses have huge basements that act as storage space for decades' worth of absolute junk, and ours is no exception. A hunt through the garbage revealed, eventually, a screwdriver and I set to work constructing the grill. It took about an hour (I am really bad at DIY), but lo and behold, a bona fide barbecue began to take shape. Once it was made I took it outside and set it to work on the steps to our apartment. Unfortunately, because it's so cheap and small it only holds a few lumps of charcoal and it took some liberal squirts of the lighter fluid to get it going (actually I gave it a few more squirts than absolutely necessary as it was quite fun in a pyromaniacal kind of way). It also turned out to be so tiny and rickety that it would only support a couple of burgers and a few sausages. Forget steaks. But I was damn proud of it, and felt very manly, having combined DIY, cooking over an open fire and drinking beer in one fell swoop. The camera never lies:


The burgers were horrible, but the sausages and beer were class.