I Braai at least twice a week throughout the year here in Northern Ireland. Always charcoal, never gas. I refuse to braai burgers or sausages as I believe that that is what sets a braai apart from a BBQ. Winter braaing can be bracing sometimes, but I also love the quiet time standing outside in the cold alone sometimes. I agree with the rule of Never ever interfere with or comment on another man's (or woman's) braai, but was severely challenged on this this past weekend when we were invited to friends down the road for a braai. I turned up a few minutes late as I had been out on the bike, only to find a group of people standing around a cold pile of charcoal, having used a whole box of firefighters trying to light it. It turned out that they had been lighting the Weber and then putting the lid on immediately. Anyway, I was immediately asked to get involved and tried to do this as humbly as possible out of respect for the man of the house and the other men that were there. Long story short, I ended up cooking the steaks as well as the huge pile of wors that I had brought along for them, whilst three men stood around holding plates and pouring drinks. I know all three of these guys very well, but have only ever braaied with them at my house, so was unaware of this facet of their personas. On the way home, my daughter innocently asked why her friends dads couldn't braai and this started a chain of thought in my head, in which I am doubting these guys and the very basis of our friendships. I have come to the conclusion that I just have to accept that perhaps I am old fashioned in my expectation of others. Even though I rationally can understand this, I still can't stop feeling an irrational disappointment in or disconnect from these mates, which further highlights why this will never truly be home for me. Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk
