Back when I lived in Nashville, one of my favorite ways to unwind at the end of the day was to sit out in the backyard by the firepit, watching the lightning bugs while smoking a cigar and sipping a cup of coffee, or if it was warm, maybe a rum drink of some sort. It was always enjoyable, and last night I got to do it again.
We have a huge party patio off the side of the Estate, with a large built-in bbq grill, and a firepit surrounded by wooden benches and tiki torches. But nobody ever uses it.
Recently, however, we've gotten two new younger roommates (I say younger, but they're closer to my age, not geezers like the other two fellas that live here) who also like to utilize the outdoor facilities. Lately, on my days off, we've been using the grill for dinner every time, and we'll just hang out and smoke, talk, and watch the planes on their descent into McCarran just about a mile away.
But we haven't used the firepit until last night. It was a brisk fall evening, the kind of night that would be perfect for an October hayride anywhere else in the country, and I wanted to build a fire. And because of the fact that we live on two acres of land that hasn't been disturbed in over thirty years, chances were good that we'd find a woodpile somewhere on the property. So with flashlights in hand, Travis (on of the new roommates) and I went on a little safari beyond the treeline in the backyard hunting for firewood.
Jackpot! Up against the block wall in the far corner of the property we found about half a cord of wood--uniformly cut trunk sections of some long-dead tree. And it had been sitting there for several years, so it was good and dry. We hauled a few pieces back to the fire pit, and with yesterday's newspaper and a handful of dryer lint, a few minutes later we had a roaring fire with six-foot-high flames using only one match and no lighter fluid.
After the fire was going, we lit up the charcoal grill again. Our other roommate, Brad, rolled in from work about that time, and the three of us hit the kitchen preparing another epic meal.
To say that we had a fine dinner would be a vast understatement. Of course we grilled brats for 'appetizers', then we grilled some huge ribeye steaks, and then foil-packed some Portobello mushrooms and asparagus with butter and spices and threw them in the coals to cook also.
You can't even begin to imagine how great the veggies smelled once we busted open the foil packs. But the steaks were fantastic, too. With all the practice we've had lately, we're getting pretty damn good at grilling them to medium-rare perfection.
I tell you what, there just isn't much better than sitting around the fire eating a great steak and enjoying the fresh air. It was almost like being on a camping trip, except that we had a flushing Roscoe just a few steps away and I didn't have to sleep on the ground. But now my fleece hoodie smells like the ribs at The Salt Lick and my cigar inventory is down a couple more sticks. Even so, it was a damn fine evening in Vegas.
No casino needed.
A barely-dressed cocktail waitress would've been nice, but you can't have everything.
Mikey
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