The Meat Makes the Man...

Food has long been a passion of mine.  I love to cook it, I love to eat it, and I love to share it with others.  I think I have an emotional attachment to food because it has always created such great memories for me.  Food often means getting together with friends and family, and fellowship is truly one of God's greatest blessings!

One of my favorite things about cooking is the feeling I get from watching others enjoy what I created.  Not that I cook simply to fish for compliments, but I love to hear how much others enjoy the culinary creation I have prepared.  I most enjoy cooking on a grill.  I currently sport the Weber Genesis:

Genesis E-310 3-Burner Black LP Gas Grill

• Porcelain-Enameled three burner gas grill
• 38000 BTUs
• Front-mounted control panels with cast aluminum end caps
• 637 square inch cooking area
• Porcelain Cast-Iron cooking surface
• Individual electronic ignition modules at each burner
• Stainless Burners
• Safety grip control knobs
• Restyled Stainless Steel work surfaces with Cast Aluminum end caps

Insert Tim the Tool Man Taylor grunting here as needed...She's a beauty, huh?  Three burners of indirect flame...I like to fire it up to 600 degrees to get the cast iron grates exceedingly hot, then kill the gas supply to the middle burner and cook at around 400.  This thing makes grilling easy...

Back to the food...I prefer to grill beef.  There are few things better than a perfectly cooked steak.  My default cut is Strip Steak, but I also enjoy Strip Steak, Sirloin, and Tenderloin (as long as it is not wrapped in bacon - don't get me wrong, I love bacon, but not wrapped around my tenderloin...wait, that sounds odd...).  Anyway, I suggest you procure a nice Strip Steak from you favorite butcher.  Take said Strip Steak, and apply the following rub:

• 1 Tablespoon Montreal Steak Seasoning

• 1 Tablespoon Light Brown Sugar

• 1 Teaspoon Onion Powder
• 1/2 Teaspoon of the following: Paprika, Cayenne Pepper, Garlic Powder

• Olive Oil

1. Get out your mixing bowl and combine the
Montreal Steak Seasoning, light brown sugar, onion powder, 

paprika, cayenne pepper, and garlic powder.
Mix them together well with a fork.

2. Now place your steak on a serving platter or baking dish.
Rub in the spices into the steaks and then place some
olive oil over the rubbed in spices.  Then flip the steaks over and repeat.

At this point you can either wrap the steaks in Saran Wrap and put them in the fridge for a few hours, or you can let them marinate for one hour at room temperature.  

Once the steaks have mingled with the rub, take them out to your preheated grill and toss them on.  For a 1" thick steak, I shoot for 6 minutes per side, which usually ends up Medium.  Only flip them once, and do not peek at them while they are cooking.  Lid down and walk away...As Dad used to tell me, "If your lookin', it's not cookin'!".

After 6 minutes a side, pull those bad boys off the grill and resist the urge to cut into them.  Always let them rest on the plate untouched for at leas 5 minutes to let the juices settle.  If you cut into it immediately, you lose all the juices.

The brown sugar in the rub carmelizes and makes some great char marks:

Mmmmm...That is good eatin'!  

I am a huge fan of A1 Steak Sauce - but not for steaks.  If you have to put A1 on a steak, it either was low quality beef or it was not seasoned/cooked correctly.  A1 if for sandwiches, baked potatoes, or bread only...And for the record, requesting A1 when at someone's house is tantamount to slapping your host/hostess in the face!

My lovely bride to be, Jennifer, recently paid me the absolute best compliment.  Whilst dining at a local "steakhouse" she uttered what was perhaps the most meaningful thing she could say at that very moment...as we sat enjoying dinner together, she looked me right in the eye and said. "Your steak is so much better than this one...".  It brought tears to my eyes, and a smile to my heart.  The meat makes the man, and in her eyes, I am The MAN! 

Reflection...

In the past week, we have all had the opportunity to reflect upon the terrible events of September 11, 2001, as well as the effect that day has had on us all in the decade that has since passed.  It is easy to become lost in the day to day shuffle, and I was happy to see so many taking the time to remember and reflect.

As I was reviewing some media coverage, I came across the article below, which was published in Men's Health Magazine in December, 2001.  The article speaks volumes to me.

It was only recently that I realized my role as a man.  In 2009, and the first part of 2010, I was going through some difficult times.  I took the opportunity to really figure out who I was.  With the help of God and the utilization of the message in John Eldredge's Wild at Heart, I was better able to understand what God meant for me when he made me.

This article was timely in the months following 9/11, and is still relevant today.  In many ways, I feel this article is an Eldredge-esque wake up call for men:

A Man’s Reach By Hugh O’Neill Originally published December 2001 Men's Health Our country has been wounded. We’re grieving the loss from the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and the death of the passengers who took on a group of terrorists in midair and perished in the woods outside Shanksville, Pennsylvania, saving other folks the bad guys sought to slaughter. In the days right after the assault, like most Americans, we tried to salvage some lesson that might be salve for the ache. But apparently, if you spend too much time thinking about the NFC East, your brain may be overmatched in the brutal terrain of thousands immolated for no reason. We couldn’t form a coherent thought, never mind rescue a sustaining fragment from the ruins. But then, as the full extent of the tragedy became clear, a TV-screen tableau formed an image that will be worth clinging to, whatever happens in the future. Whether the dogs of war are loosed, or wisdom and love can find a way around necessity, the memory of police officers, firefighters, ironworkers, and emergency medical technicians moving methodically over the great heaps of rubble will remain an inspiration for dealing with a crisis and plain old daily life. With a stubborn mix of strength and care, those guys just worked. One chunk, one bucket at a time, they set about moving the mountain of I-beams and concrete and glass that had entombed their countrymen. We were struck by their plain doggedness, the relentless simplicity of lift and carry and continue. Facing an undoable task, they did what men do best—they began. Their ambition extended only to the ends of their arms. Nothing fancy. Just men and their muscles and their wills at work. They looked about them, bent over, and bore away the nearest burden. Here’s the lesson we’re determined to learn. Men are most useful when, like those rescuers, we focus on the small circle around us. We dream of big opportunities—to dazzle hordes of women, to reinvent capitalism, to matter. But so many of us get lost in big plans, or trapped by vague angers and old regrets, that we forget what those rescuers knew—that a man’s job is right here, right now. The opportunities aren’t out there. They’re asleep upstairs, wearing Spider-Man pajamas. They’re at the supermarket buying stuff for dinner, and now, after the attack, a little more fearful for the people they love. Yesterday’s game is in the books. The assignment, lieutenant, is to focus on the task at hand, to seize opportunities that are right in front of you—within your arm’s reach. The word “ambition” has come to mean the drive to move up in the AP rankings, to achieve wealth or standing. But in truth, a man’s “ambit” is nothing more or less than the circle in which he moves, the compass of his connections. We hereby decree that “ambition” is the more modest, but more demanding, urge to enrich the circle in which you move, whether you’re a Wall Street player or a firefighter from Bay Ridge who may die on the way up the stairs of an inferno. The attack on America has, for now, done what all those sixth-grade teachers couldn’t do—wiped that smirk off our faces. It’s a good bet we’ll be wise guys again. But we’re also hoping that the theologian Thomas Moore is right, that melancholy carves out a space in the soul where wisdom can grow. And we’re determined to shrink our circle, commend our attention to that which we can control. We’re going to deploy our love and energy in classrooms, on ball fields, in churches, in bars, in our offices, in the backyard, throughout the ambits of our lives. Don’t mistake us. We remain four-squared behind great achievements in the common world, including the rebuilding of whatever time reveals to be right on the World Trade Center site. But a few months out from this tragedy, we find ourselves in search of a manhood a little more attentive, one that dreams of stewardship, not empire. In all the great men we’ve known—fathers, teachers, brothers, pals—their strength came from a sense of duty. Left foot. Right foot. We’re at war, all right. And terrorism is just one of our enemies. The other is carelessness. To honor the memory of the folks who died, and the service of those who dug, we’re going to try our best to make ourselves useful.

Stewardship.  Serving others with a sense of duty.  Leading and growing my family's Faith.  Loving those around me (or those in "the ambits of our lives").  I will not lose heart, nor sacrifice my strength.



God Bless...

Vintage...

It has been several weeks since my last post, and surprisingly, several people have mentioned that I am slacking.  I am happy that people care enough to notice my procrastination, and apologize for being so lazy...

I thought it would be fun to take a trip down memory lane.  Some of you will not recognize the Bryan you are about to see in the images which follow.  Some of you will remember him fondly.  Some of you will laugh uncontrollably...Prepare for Bryan, circa 2002 to 2005....

Ambition and Potential

We will get things started with a glimpse at my Ball State University student ID.  This beauty brings back some memories...I chose to grow my hair out because honestly, I was not having any luck with the ladies when I had short hair, so I figured it couldn't hurt.  As it turned out, the long hair didn't help much either, but I sure tried.  I would go back to my parents house once a semester to have my Mom cut my hair.   Good times...These days, I would love to have just half of my hair back, but my forehead continues to get larger for some reason. 

The Classic "Less Than Sober" Look 

I am not sure where this picture was taken, but I am fairly certain I might have enjoyed a beverage or two prior to it being taken.  It looks as if I am about to yam all over the place, right?  You may notice the neck tie and button down shirt under that sweet hoodie.  I felt it was important to dress in the proper attire when drinking.

A Tale of Two Brothers

"One of these things is not like the other..." - I used to make fun of my brother for his lack of hair.  I once Photoshopped my magnificent mane onto his head for a birthday card.  Karma is now kicking my butt as my hairline retreats year after year.  We still enjoy goofing off with our nieces and nephew though...

Don't Wanna Brag, But...

      

Check out the pecks on that dude...Full disclosure: I was 117 pounds in the picture above, and I bet a good 2 pounds of that was hair!  Notice the classy PBR...I was clearly just getting started with my love of beer when this picture was taken.  I know this because it was not long after I started drinking beer that I went from that scrawny 117 pound hippie to a 170 pound graduate. 

Is That a Helmet?

I am not really sure what to say about this one...It sort of speaks for itself.  Let's just say that Michael Kelso had some major competition in the Muncie area.

Or was it Davy Jones?

I guess it would depend on the generation which serves as the point of reference.  While working at the frozen yogurt, or "fro-yo" joint, customers commented on my coiffed helmet head, claiming that it was similar to one of the aforementioned.  I just thought it would get me chicks...

Giddy Up

    

Halloween at the yogurt shop gave me the opportunity to break out the cowboy had and pistols.  It was a fun night, especially when a customer came in dressed as an Indian (dot, not feather - sorry if that is offensive to anyone...).  We posed for a cowboy and indian picture.  Probably not the most politically correct picture I have ever been a part of.  I guess after this blog post I cannot run for public office...

Our Lady

Our Grandma is an incredible woman and has inspired and taught me more than I can ever put into words.  I cannot express how much I love her, and I consider myself, and my family, blessed to have her.  That said, we clean up really well.  Just sayin'....

Composite Picture 

Here we have the classic cleaned-up Bryan, complete with dashing smile and snazzy neck tie.  This was the picture taken for my Delta Sigma Pi Business Fraternity composite.  Sadly, shortly after this picture was taken I decided that in order to seek gainful employment at some point I would need to cut my hair.  And thus ended the great hair experiment of 2002 through 2005.