Long Live the Barbecue

Here’s something I didn’t realize about myself until I moved to New York: I love a good barbecue. You would think as a vegetarian I would be turned off by a party that revolves around the slow cooking of flesh, but actually, I think barbecues are a hoot! In the past three weeks, I’ve partaken in three equally delightful and diverse barbecues.

The first one was on a friend’s roof in the lower east side. The crowd of 15-20 stayed standing for much of the festivities and mingled in small groups. I met a man who owned his own hedge fund firm, an investment banker, and an advertising executive. I felt a little intimated by their successes and stature, but I was able to fit into this crowd by being one of many who owned two houses - that seemed pretty standard.

These upwardly mobile work-acoholics were meeting me for the first time, but were universally warm and welcoming. In addition to the standard barbecue fare of hamburgers and potato chips, our host had put out pita and hummus, a variety of olives, and a couscous dish that was a celebration of summer with the inclusion of all its fresh vegetables. The company was delightful, but the food made me stay until almost midnight.

The next barbecue was exactly a week later at my co-workers house. He lives in a tiny apartment with his girlfriend in the upper eastside with one treasured feature: a backyard. They took this 10 x 20 slab of concrete connected to their back sliding door and planted fresh herbs and plants around its circumference to soften up the atmosphere and give the entire area a sweet, comfortable feel. Their backyard consisted of a long dining table, a couple lounge chairs, and of course, a barbecue. Every other square inch was taken up with people. They invited 50 and 75 showed up to their 500 square foot apartment. The atmosphere was loud, raucous and a lot of fun. The wide variety of guests made for great conversations. A small sampling:

- Fat people on hot airplanes, Vegas, the Yankees

- Popular New York bike rides, vegetarianism, marathons

- Hangover cures, trade shows, dating

It was quite a bit different than the barbecue a week prior. For one thing, there was no hummus in sight and the alcoholic selection was 100% beer, but the group was equally as warm and friendly. If I hadn’t been to the US Open all day, I would likely have stayed until midnight at this one as well. As it was, I left a bit after 8:00, regrettably. I had to get home to my dog who I had left alone early that morning.

The final barbecue was a week later in Harlem. It was a school reunion of sorts and I had been invited as a friend of one of the alumni. The festivities took place in the basement of our host's childhood home, where his much younger, much messier brother resided. There was a makeshift bar and a kitchen counter, but the gem was out back. Roy, our host, had real grass and trees in his backyard along with a selection of eclectic chairs and a real live fire pit. It was lovely.

I was one of the few in attendance who wasn't a professional designer. The group was intelligent, witty, and very creative. After a few beverages, the conversation flowed. Everyone glowed a reddish hue from the light of the fire and their own alcohol-induced warmth.

The guest of honor was a young woman who was visiting from Ireland. She met her husband on a vacation there and married him two years later. Her visits to New York were infrequent and cause for celebration. A small group of us, including the Irish resident and a visitor from Minnesota who flew in for this reunion, stumbled through the dark streets of Northern Manhattan well past three in the morning. We were content with an evening of great food, stimulating conversation, and laughter that crackled like the fire through the night.

Yes, barbecues are fantastic. It's interesting that in a city of this magnitude, a suburban activity still reins as king of the summer. I'm glad it does. There's nothing wrong with a few friends congregating around grilled meats and cold beers, wherever they can find a slab of concrete or a blade of grass. It's a universal summer pastime - even in New York City.