Shadrach, Meshach, and the Tri-Tip Roast

I made a decision the other day.

Because Life With Rachael is so often filled with completely unexpected turns of events, I decided to wear my small digital camera attached to my belt at all times. Recently, on several occasions, I have wished for it, but to no avail. What happened Friday night solidified my decision even more.

From now on, I will not be without my camera.

I had actually made this decision on Thursday afternoon. I wore my camera in to work Friday, had it on all day, never took it off.

Until I got home. And then I made my mistake. I figured that we were all home, we were just going to eat dinner and play a game of Life with my kids and dad. I mean, what could happen?

Unfortunately, I left the camera on my dresser in my bedroom.

And when you really need it, and it's not there, it's either too late to get it, or you don't think of it.

My dad came over because this is the last time we will see him for a long time. I had went to pick him up and we got home as Rachael was getting dinner together.

I went into my bedroom, got out of my nice 'office clothes', put on some shorts and a T-shirt, and came back into the living room. At that point, I smelled the unmistakeable odor of burning meat. Apparently, Rachael was BBQ'ing the Tri-Tip on my grill.

I went outside to check on it.

I looked down at the thermometer.

It said it was 650 degrees inside the BBQ. Now, I didn't even know my BBQ would GET to 650 degrees. Now, I know. Unfortunately, by the time I got my camera, the temperature had decreased into the normal range.

I was immediately concerned with the safety ramifications of having a chunk of metal rivaling the core temperature of the sun emanating heat to the side of the house, just 8 inches away.

I felt the handles of the grill. While hot enough to burn if held too long, I wanted to relieve the intense heat as soon as possible. I felt for the least blistering portion of the handle and began to lift.

Now in the Bible story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, the three of them are cast into a fiery furnace heated seven times it's normal temperature. I'm thinking this was around the same temperature as my BBQ, 650 degrees. When the kings helpers threw the 3 men into the furnace, the heat from the fire was so intense that it killed them. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were unscathed and unscorched. The Bible says that the smell of fire was not even on them.

Our Tri-Tip, and my arm hairs were not so fortunate.

I don't think God had as big of a vested interest in my arm hairs as he did in preserving the lives of three of his faithful followers.

The lid came up in one smooth, fluid motion.

The escaping air was so hot as to be unbearable.

The heat alone was enough to singe my arm hairs. No flame reached my arm. But all the hairs on the side of my arm from my wrist almost to my elbow were definitely well-done.

Ahh, there's nothing like the smell of burned arm-hairs.

Rachael had decided to cook the Tri-Tip, wrapped in aluminum.

Did you know that aluminum actually begins to flake and come apart in temperatures exceeding 600 degrees? I did not either. I have realized that there are so many things I might never know in life if I was not blessed to live my Life With Rachael.

We opened/broke up the aluminum foil and surveyed the damage inside. The Tri-Tips were charred significantly on the outside, but still uncooked inside. We put them back on the BBQ.

By this time, the BBQ was off. I went to relight it. My grill has three different areas to light and cook on, each controlled and regulated by it's own knob you turn. The first one worked fine. The second one was stuck, but eventually turned, allowing the gas to flow. The third one appeared to be welded, or melted solid.

We cooked on 2/3 of the grill.

When the meat was done, we brought it in, and began the process of removing the charred sections. All in all, the meat was not great, but it was not terrible.

We had a nice meal, played Life with the kids, and went to bed.

Saturday, in the daylight, I went out to check on the grill to see if there was any previously unnoticed damage. All three knobs were working fine now. Good news!

I looked underneath, where the propane tank and the hoses are.

The propane hose was melted to the bottom of my grill.

Now, I'm fairly confident that the hoses used on BBQ's are meant to withstand a fair amount of heat. Them being used in a BBQ and all.

I don't think they've been tested at 650 degrees.

'Cause let me tell you, they will melt.

I have attached a picture for your amusement. And while I'm going to have to replace the hoses on the BBQ and try to re-grow some arm hair, you, my readers, will probably reap the benefits of seeing photos more often, as my decision to keep a camera handy at all times has decidedly been solidified with this recent adventure in my Life With Rachael.

So, I'm thinking that the next time Rachael BBQ's she had either better seek some Divine Intervention, on par with that of Shadrach, Meshack, and Abednego, or we'd better keep the grill on the South side of 500.

My arm hairs can't take much more.


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