Page 79 of Death of a Grill Master

Island Food & Spirits

By

Hayley Powell

After my divorce, I had finally mastered the art of barbecuing without setting myself—or my lawn—on fire. Unfortunately, according to my best friends, Mona and Liddy, it was time for me to “get back out there.”

I told them I’d rather alphabetize my spice rack.

But Mona and Liddy were relentless, and after a few too many of Liddy’s Aperol Orange Spritzes, I found myself agreeing to a setup with one of her Realtor friends. There were, however, two conditions.

First, the date had to take place at my house. The last thing I needed was to become the topic of breakfast gossip at Jordan’s Restaurant. I could just picture it: half of Bar Harbor analyzing my date between bites of blueberry pancakes. Hard pass.

Second, Liddy and her latest boyfriend, Mike, would be joining us. I needed backup. If the date went south, at least I’d have witnesses.

So, date night arrived. Liddy and Mike showed up—with my date, Joe, in tow. I’d gone all out: spicy jalapeño poppers, BBQ pork chops, loaded baked potato salad, and my triple-threat chocolate cake for dessert. I figured that even if the date flopped, at least the food wouldn’t.

I handed out cocktails and went to fetch the appetizers—crispy, bacon-wrapped jalapeño poppers stuffed with pimento cheese (a new twist I was particularly proud of). But when I offered Joe a plate, he just stared at me like I’d tried to hand him a live grenade.

“I can’t eat those,” he said, clutching his stomach. “Spicy food sends me straight to the ER.”

I apologized profusely, ran inside, and threw together a plate of cheese and crackers instead. Liddy and Mike raved about the poppers, so at least someone appreciated them.

Dinner went no better. I plated everything beautifully and presented Joe with the biggest pork chop, extra potato salad, and a big smile. He took one look, gasped dramatically, and shouted, “Are you trying to kill me?”

Apparently, he was allergic to pork. And therefore to the bacon bits in the potato salad. And, possibly, to joy itself.

As if that wasn’t enough, when I suggested dessert instead, he declared that chocolate cake would send his blood sugar “through the roof” because—surprise!—he had diabetes.

By then I was seeing red, and not just from the grill. Fortunately, Liddy recognized my look and quickly intervened. She and Mike gently suggested Joe call it a night before I needed medical attention for myself.

He finally stormed off, muttering about dietary sabotage, and the three of us just stared at each other in stunned silence before bursting into laughter.

I told Liddy I wasn’t ready to date again anytime soon, but when I was, I planned to meet the next guy in the grocery store—so I could check his cart for red flags before agreeing to dinner.

The rest of the night was perfect: good friends, good food, and no medical emergencies. Speaking of which, here are the recipes that survived the date from hell—Liddy’s Aperol Orange Spritz and my trusty BBQ Pork Chops.

APEROL ORANGE SPRITZ

INGREDIENTS

1½ ounces Aperol Orange Aperitif

5 ounces prosecco

Splash of orange juice

Splash of soda

Orange slice, for garnish (optional)

Add a few ice cubes to a wineglass. Pour in the Aperol, prosecco, orange juice, and a splash of soda. Add the orange slice if desired. Sip slowly while contemplating why you ever agreed to blind dates.

BBQ PORK CHOPS

INGREDIENTS

4 to 6 thick-cut boneless pork chops