The Man’s Book of the BBQ


The Man’s Book of the BBQ apocrypha

There’s a ton that fell off the map in the printed edition of The Man’s Book of the BBQ (PS — out Sept 1st in the states), but here’s just a bit from the introduction. I should probably steal this from myself and use it elsewhere. Pretty soon I’m going to need an “Unprovoked mockery of the Welsh” tag for these freelance posts. Done.


A final note: This book is intended for an international audience, and I’m so American, an obesity problem has me. When I go hiking, bald eagles try to look busy. Rather than learn geography, I invade nations and redraw their borders. The only reason arms-makers haven’t named a gun after me yet is they can’t find steel pure enough. The result is I’m much more handy with Queens English than the Queen’s English. What I know of your jargon I gleaned from Andy Capp and the dirty parts of Fanny Hill, which is the Yankee title of your book Oi! This Bird’s Gone Up the Maypole!
So where applicable, I have made footnotes clarifying my meaning. Terms in red will be explained by footnote to the United Kingdom reader, as will words in blue to the American audience. Words in white will not show up on paper, and are therefore of interest to the illiterate.1

1Welsh. Ha! Kidding. You’re all right, Wales.


Just a reminder

I’ve written a series of almost-funny essayettes for some stock photos Hachette had lying around, and when you get done reading it, you’ll be less likely to screw up your next barbecue. It’s out May 2, with a U.S. release come Labor Day, because we like to bookend the grilling season. Also, I never let a birthday go by without a release party, unless it’s the best birthday I ever had.

One day, I’m escaping to the Outer Banks again.

The Man's Book of the BBQ