Long Due Barbecue

You don’t organise barbecues in Nepal. It’s the thing for the rich, extremely expensive. Even buying a grill and charcoals cost a fortune. Never mind the meat and all the sauce you need to marinate. Also, sausages are unheard of in Nepal. We stare if we see anybody enjoy sausages. Such rarity.

Then, the beverages. We don’t have a habit of telling (or requesting) invited guests to bring their own alcohol. It’s rude. An anathema. Guests should be treated like gods. You’d be sullying your reputation, if you asked guests to contribute anything.

So the costs for organising a simply BBQ is staggering. My estimation would be, if you’ve got a decent job, you’d be wasting (it is wasting, not spending, people's mentality) half the month’s salary. Unbelievable. That’s why we never had those parties. Something that resembles closely to one was when my dad organised a big bonfire one New Year’s eve. We did marinate mutton, but on the fire, without proper grill and charcoals, the meat blackened, became burnt, or didn’t cook at all. The fire wasn’t even.

Last Sunday, determined to put that right, together with my housemates, I organised my first barbecue in London.

I was surprised with how little effort it took, and more importantly, how little it cost. For five guests, I ended up spending £60. Half a day’s pay. And it took us just two hours to prepare. That included shopping, marinating the meat, and even preparing a salad, to enjoy side-by-side with the barbecue.

We bought use-and-throw barbecue box, containing grill on top with charcoals and fire-starters underneath. In no time, after we lit the fire, the charcoals started giving heat. All the meat, sausages, and fish we bought, cooked with ease.

I couldn’t help but compare with our efforts of that bonfire night. From the heat of the fire, my dad sweated like a pig in the chilly night, while twisting and turning the meant, to prevent them from over cooking. The fire almost cost his jacket. Half the mutton got lost, became ash, as it slid down from the log we’d placed for them to cook. All-in-all, it was a disastrous effort.

This time, we sipped beer, joked, laughed, and used the tongs to flip the meat and the sausages around. In thirty minutes, the lamp chops we’d placed first, were ready to eat.

Delicious! came the verdict, from Michael, my housemate who tasted the first lamp chop. After that, everybody jumped in. I waited for my vegetarian sausages to grill properly.

Which reminds me of another thing. If I’d been vegetarian that bonfire night, some fifteen years back, I’d have to either endure hunger, or enjoy just potatoes. Here, I had vegetable sausages, vegetable khababs, and even baby potatoes, specifically meant for barbecue.

This place really is geared for barbecue. We in Nepal, we’d rather make go picnics, and enjoy our Dal, Bhat. Or maybe MOMOS?