A perfect southern California evening, some meat on the grill, sides on the table, cold drinks in hand. Is there a better recipe for a men’s barbecue? About 15 of us from church get together every month or so for our Chill Grill.
I block off the day on my calendar. I love cooking for my guys.
The funny thing is, the first Chill Grill—on the patio at St. James’ Episcopal Church one Sunday afternoon—I was a little nervous. It was a potluck, and I’d brought a bottle of wine. A two-dollar bottle from Trader Joe’s. Charles Shaw, aka Two-Buck Chuck.
A year earlier, I would have pulled something classier from our wine cellar, but these days, the cellar was bare.
For years my wife, Tracy, and I had made a good living as freelance celebrity photographers, shooting for magazines like Self, Parade and Guideposts. But when the economy tanked, we felt it big time.
We had to let our cleaning woman go, only shopped at discount stores and sold our second car. The lowest moment was when the cable guy showed up to unhook our cable—right in the middle of the kids’ cartoons.
I walked into the courtyard at St. James’ that afternoon, wondering if I’d fit in with the other guys. We didn’t know each other that well, but from what I’d seen, their families didn’t seem to be struggling. Rev. Jon patted me on the shoulder and said, “Michael, great to see you.”
I set the wine on a table as inconspicuously as possible and sauntered over to two men standing by the grill. I figured they were making guy small talk—sports, work, politics. “I never imagined things would come to this,” one man said.
“I know,” said the other. “I don’t know how we’re going to pay the mortgage, let alone afford college for the kids.” Wow, I thought. I’m not the only one.
An intense feeling of relief swept through me. I’d kept so much locked up inside that I needed to get out. Financial woes aren’t something most guys like to talk about; we’re supposed to be good providers, after all.
Summoning my nerve, I said, “See that two-dollar bottle of wine?” I pointed to the table. “That’s all I can manage these days.”
We took turns telling about our struggles, how we tried to keep things normal, especially for our kids, all the while stressing over our dwindling savings, madly clipping coupons for groceries at Super King.
“It’s tough for us middle-aged guys. Thank God for our families,” said one.
Other fellows drifted in and out of our conversation. We moved on to the Lakers’ chances of another championship. Just light talk, but we felt a deeper connection. We were in this together. Rev. Jon said the blessing before dinner.
Later, he came up to me and said, “Well, what do you think? Should we do this again?” He’d heard me mention how much I like cooking and grilling.
As the recession deepened, the Chill Grills got more elaborate. Partly because most of us could no longer afford to go to restaurants, but I think we all dug deeper as a way of taking care of each other. We took turns hosting.
Guys swapped recipes and created amazing dinners. We’ve had Hawaiian-style BBQ, Oktoberfest bratwurst night, my favorite spicy chicken, even roasted a whole pig.
Now the economy is easing up and times are brighter.
Still, it’s comforting to know we’ve made friends who can help us through whatever the future brings. I can’t wait for our next Chill Grill. Guys, how does a crab boil or a make-your-own pizza night sound?
Try Michael's recipe for Savory Slow-Grilled Chicken.
