The NorthernClan was to have chicken for dinner on Thursday.
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It was all set to go - big package of chicken thighs and drumsticks, grill warming up, side dishes prepped. The family's mouths were watering, anticipating the delicious dinner that would soon be coming off the grill.
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Alas, it was not to be.
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As the Northerns sat around the dinner table, glumly chomping on their lettuce and carrots, they attempted to solve the Mystery of the Chicken.
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One of the members of the NorthernClan grew up in a magical land in a place far, far from Vermont. On certain hot and humid nights, if a person possessed enough courage to push through the clouds of steam and smoke, they could witness the miracle of alchemy: the transformation of chicken into charcoal. (And then, it was served as dinner!) (Everyone is glad that Dad eventually learned to grill most excellently!)
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So, NorthernDaddy has seen some seriously charred chicken from a grill. The chicken that was incinerated on his grill last Thursday sets a new standard in "char". The food was on the grill for about four minutes while NorthernDaddy talked with Mommy and Little in the kitchen. When he opened the door to go back to the grill, he could smell that something was "off". Coming around the corner of the garage, he could see huge licks of flame leaping from the grill. The thermometer on the lid (which, under normal grilling circumstances, reads 300-500 degrees) was pegged out over 900 degrees. The handle on the lid melted off, and things were so hot that Daddy had to turn off the burners by reaching with the grill brush. When he got the grill lid pried open, he found that dinner was, um... done.
Somehow, there was a flare up that turned into a totally uncontrollable blaze that turned the highy anticipated Chicken Dinner into Lettuce, Carrots, and Toast.
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Dinner, anyone?
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