FROM ROOSEVELT by Linda Schuster
No one will be buying tickets. It qualifies as the grossest show on earth. But the transformation of a greasy, grungy grill into something you can eat off of, well that’s a feat of wonder.
There is no other job I’d rather push to the backburner. Yeah, yeah, the surface gets a regular scraping. And that degree of heat will kill any germ daring to enter the sacred pit.
Our crew cooks on it all year round. However, the true barbecue season has begun in earnest. I’d say a scrubbing is in order since we’ll be serving friends and extended family tasty treats from the fire now through summer. A clean slate in May is not asking too much.
How would I master the monstrosity? I planned a one-two punch starting with a new product I found at the grocery store. It’s the miraculous Goo Gone brand BBQ Grill Cleaner. The label claims that it "Clings to the surface to better dissolve baked-on gunk & goo!" Not only that, it "Washes away germs & bacteria. Makes grill safe for food contact."
Wow. This was great stuff! I felt like quite the culinary craftsman when I stumbled upon the discovery. But wait, don’t stop there. The Goo Gone BBQ Grill Cleaner also is biodegradable, emits no fumes and wipes clean. What could be better?
So I made the purchase. I flung the plastic spray bottle into my cart with a knowing grin on my face. I could conquer all the corpulent buildup my grill had to offer.
Confronting my backyard beast with gusto I spritzed my grubby fingers to the bone. I schemed to exceed the allotted 10 minutes waiting time. That oughta do it.
Heh, heh, heh, I muttered in sinister tones. Then off I dashed for an hour of play at the school with my kids. I would return for the expected melt-down.
When I got back the grill appeared exactly as I had left it. OK, no sweat. "Gently brush encrusted areas. Rinse thoroughly with water. Repeat application if needed."
If needed? I was digging out handfuls of gob into a plastic bag. There was grease everywhere. On my clothes, up my arms, in my hair. Ew!
Only 12 more bottles and we would see the light at the end of the slippery, oily tunnel. Spray, spray, spray. Scrub, wipe, rinse. C’mon Goo Gone, do your thing! Thank goodness for the warm water, scrub brush and gloved gob-grabbing action. They were beginning to glow as the real heroes here.
The best part was that the dog ate some of the yucky grease that had fallen on the ground and threw up bright and early the next morning on my dining room floor. Lovely.
And the grill? It’s not spotless but it bears a certain gleam if I may say so myself. I rigged up a three-alarm system in the event anyone should get too close with a tray of boneless chicken.
In the end I was convinced that this was a job for Superman. Either that or I would have to face reality. This little chore really needs to be tackled more than once a year. Cheeseburger anyone?
Linda Schuster is a freelance writer living in Roosevelt, who bores visitors with photos of her shiny grill.

