Carl Jung once postulated that the images in dreams revealed something about ourselves. They detailed our true value of relationships, working life, and personality traits. Dreams were created, in a sense, by the "shadow" (or, more simply, the "counter ego." What we projected to the world was what we wanted to show, but it was the counter ego that was our true self.
Today, I've managed to place a New York Strip steak on the grill. A hot grate, with red-hot coals glowing underneath. Taking the wire brush, I scrape off the remnants of the last meal cooked here (chicken breast with a mango-chipotle rub, if memory serves.) I stack the coals, apply a modest, yet adequate, amount of lighter fluid, and strike a match to apply flame. As the coals slowly burn, I plunge one hand into the ice and water slurry that fills the cooler. Blindly groping, my fingers latch onto a cold, glass object.
Ah, Fat Tire.
The coals slowly turn from black to gray, and I spray a wee bit of canola oil cooking spray on the wire grate. I wield my tongs and grill spatula with the same dexterity that Zorro wielded his blade. I'm the master of my domain, and woe be unto he who dare trespass on my turf.
The steak goes on the grate, giving off a welcoming "Sssssssss" sizzle. There's a light coating of olive oil, fresh cracked pepper, and coarse sea salt coating this, the finest cut of dead animal flesh available. Closing the lid, I return to the cold beer.
It's a warm day, though not terribly so for Phoenix in June. Just shy of 110. The sun is out (of course,) and the sky is blue (of course,) and my dog is laying in the shade, slowly licking her crotch (of course.) T-Bone Walker is playing on the stereo. I've got a beer.
With deft skill, I take the tongs in one hand and open the lid with the same hand (the left hand is holding the beer, of course.) I grasp the steak, and in one smooth motion I flip it over and turn it about 75 degrees along the z-axis. This creates that picture perfect diamond sear pattern, so beloved of fine steak eaters everywhere. Nothing so mundane as a square sear pattern, this diamond sear shows the dedication and attention to detail of a grill master. Master, I tell you.
Another flip, no turn. A third flip, with that 75 degree rotation again. Four minutes between each.
Take the steak off the heat, throw some steamed asparagus on the side, a salad with Parmesan Peppercorn dressing, and a second beer to wash it down.
This what dreams are made of.
What would Carl say?