Blackened and Burnt

It is difficult to narrow down one specific iconic summer food but I can try. A simple blackened seemingly burnt hot dog off the grill always screams summer to me. It is not so much because it is a favorite food but because of the memories that such a common thing invokes in me. Memories of family picnics that were a staple of summer over half my life.

From my earliest memories growing up, most summer weekends, especially the holidays, my parents would load my younger brother and sister and myself into the car and drive just under an hour to my maternal grandparents home in the country. There we would be joined by a large family of aunts, uncles, cousins and various other family members. My grandparents lived in a small trailer so it could get crowded fast but in the summer that didn't matter since most of the activities took place outside. The trailer sat on a large property with a big yard and a picnic shelter my grandfather built.

It was in that picnic shelter that my grandad would man the grill cooking up a large amount of burgers and hot dogs while conversing with the other men. On one long table sat a variety of other food brought by other family members, usually more than even our large family could eat prompting at the end of the day a round of "Everyone take some of this home!" from the owner of a particular dish. Off to one side was a fridge stocked with a variety of soda and water for everyone to help themselves. It was a novelty to us kids who were used to most of the year being limited on soda consumption as well as having to ask permission. The freedom showed as we tended to leave a scattering of unfinished soda cans littered about in our hurry to run off and play, forgetting they existed thus grabbing a new one each trip.

My siblings, cousins, and I would play together as we waited for the food to be ready. Whether it was a game of badminton or volleyball at the net set up in the yard, riding the numerous bikes my granddad collected over the years, or shooting hoops at the basket set up down in the backyard by granddad's work shed, we were never hurting for something to do. Even if we just used our imaginations to play out fantastic adventures, we knew how to have fun despite the occasional "I'm bored" moments that come with being a child. My personal favorite thing was when a couple of my uncles would recruit a bunch of people to play touch football in a field across the dirt road. It is one of the reasons I grew to love the game.

Eventually all of our childhood fun and frolic would be interrupted by the voice of an adult calling out, "Foods Ready!!!" Then came the stampede of kids and adults alike to the picnic shelter filling plates of food and finding a place to sit, eat, and talk with each other. It was funny that somehow that call to come eat seemed to attract not just the family gathered but complete strangers who would arrive, eat and leave without anyone even realizing that no one knew who they were until they left. We called them "Picnic People" and never really were too concerned because we lived by a welcoming country attitude and hospitality.

After everyone had eaten the day would be waning towards evening and things became more relaxed for most everybody except some of the women who jumped into clean up mode. That was when us kids were hit with "If you are still hungry get it now!" This is probably why I am a bigger person now because I would always go through and make another plate whether hungry or not. I tended to eat burgers in my initial trips through the food line as did a lot of people so on this final trip there were usually only hot dogs left. The hot dogs that were originally passed over for being so black and burnt but now being all that was left were suddenly an appetizing way to end a fun summer day. This is why I fondly associate hot dogs with summer.