Photo by Louise Gill/Flickr Creative Commons

One of my earliest memories is ribs. Hot off my father’s reliable Weber grill, glistening with fat and sinew and cloaked in the tantalizing aroma of smoke and seasoning, it’s as though my life was meaningless before my first taste of barbecue, that primal collision of fire and meat that’s as old as mankind. The only people who don’t appreciate the universal appeal of barbecue are vegans and hippies; for everyone else, the power of grilled meat is an undeniable fact of life.

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