By Chris McClure, Contributing Editor

I use a Pit Boss grill/smoker because when I’m cooking, I’m the boss.

THERE ARE SOME who are passionate about cooking on their outdoor grill, smoker or whatever type of cooking device they prefer for what many refer to as the outdoor barbeque. In some ways, I’m a bit of a purist about that – especially with my Texas roots that revolt against calling anything barbeque except that special process which has nothing to do with sauces and concoctions but is all about smoking meat. Otherwise, I’m all about the eating experience rather than the cooking process.

I have to admit that I jumped off the deep end about a year ago and bought a smoker (aka pellet grill). I’ve enjoyed experimenting with briskets, steaks and even beef jerky. I’ve cooked roasts on it, some vegetables (you know, those things that vegetarians eat) and even a few competitive meats. I have come to the conclusion, however, that I am not one of the fanatics when it comes to cooking on the “grill.”

For most of America, the outdoor grill is a center of social activity. Frequently, there is a strong association with beer or other beverages that are consumed in prodigious quantities before, during and after the actual cooking occurs. In honor of that view of grilling, I decided to try my hand at a song.

Now, cut me some slack here. I’m not going to sing it to you; you’ll have to fill in the tune in your head. Just make sure it has a country beat.

Just sittin’ on my back porch Sippin’ on a beer;
Neighbor in the next yard
Is looking over here.
He asked me, “What’s for supper?” I said, “I’m grillin’ meat.
If you’ll bring some ice-cold beer There’s plenty here to eat.”

I like a little McCormick’s on each side and possibly a pat of butter when serving.

I’m grillin’
It’s somethin’ that I do.
I cook with gas and sometimes smoke While throwing back a few!
So, bring a cooler full of beer
If you want to eat;
We’ll kick back a cold one
While we burn some meat.
Now the party’s over,
We sit around like ticks
Full of beef and full of beer,
Just some old, small-town hicks.
Then we get the guitars
And play into the night.
With the crickets and the lightening bugs, Everything is right.

Okay, it’s not George Strait. It’s supposed to be humorous and I hope you take it that way. The key here isn’t the beer, it’s the beef. As long as it’s the center of the meal I don’t care if it is steak, brisket or, hamburger, it’s grilling season.