The Best $614.88 I Ever Spent: A 22" Weber Perfomer Deluxe Charcoal BBQ

Grilling meat over piping hot coals is the thing I love most about summer.

Jamie Mah @grahammah

Welcome to Summer. With the first long weekend of the season now in our rearview mirror, it’s time to settle in and get reacquainted with days spent at the beach, going for long runs along the seawall, biking, drinking rose, camping, hiking, eating ice cream and of course, bbqing. This series of the best thing I ever spent will look to capture the joys of this season as each of us here at Midrange will look to share our best spent dollars on experiences we hope to cherish.

The obvious should be said: I’m a guy, and I love to BBQ.

There, I said it.

My love of bbqing isn’t unique. Like many men before and around me today, our love of the grill is one we all share. Show me a man who hates standing over hot coals, and I’ll tell you straight up to give his head a shake. Not all guys love to drink beer. I was one of them for quite some time, that is until I met Sir Guinness. But name me a guy who hates to bbq? You can't! Even if you don’t do it at all, or often for that matter, there’s a good chance you probably still love it. It’s a passtime beholden to us all since the dawn of the flame. Grilling meat or whatever you so desire is what brings us together…and an empty stomach.

We tail gate at Football games surrounded by bbq’s. Pig roasts are a big thing and are more common than ever before. To stand and sear is to enjoy the time spent in the smoky euphoria that is the world of the bbq. To question what it is you’re grilling, be it a burger, a steak or even chicken, one never loses sight of it’s pleasure. As grease drips and meat cooks, a smile abounds from my face from ear to ear.

I own a Weber charcoal performer deluxe. I intend to use it all the time this summer. I invite friends over to revel in its joys, and simply lighting it up is half the fun. Gas is one thing, but charcoal is another. Pushing the coals around to find that perfect mixture of air and heat is a tactile sensation that causes an inward sense of manly satisfaction to manifest in a grin that says “Damn, this is the life.” It’s a process, one that is rewarded mightily with each savoury bite.

When I bbq, my fingernails turn black, my house smells of smoke and my fridge is always full of condiments. I look to my grill and say “Let’s do this!” Friends rejoice with me here, plates at the ready. I’m no Obama, but I believe in a better summer. One filled with drunken stories, laughter and late nights. But it’s the food that brings us all together, it always has and it always will. Being outside with the sun beating on my face, there’s no place I’d rather be than standing next to my grill.

When it comes to classic gender traits, I believe my love of the bbq to be one of my more manly qualities. I have long hair. I barely grow facial hair. I have nary a chest hair. I never had a father, and I moisturize. Some would consider me metro-sexual, but I refuse the indignation. I’m a proud man who loves beer, boys nights, sports and my fucking bbq— and women of course. My heroes are Don Draper, Kobe Bryant and James Bond (Daniel Craig’s version that is). Ego, brashness and a lot of masculinity are traits I respect. Becoming a bbqing man definitely fits this mould.

I believe I’m there.

So here’s my Confession: I love to bbq and it’s even sweeter than you.

Now I need to go take a shower.