As I sit here reading all these memories of times that we spent as children watching/helping our fathers cook meals for the family, I can't but think that "outdoor cooking" is a type of glue that bonds us to our parents and siblings in a very special way. Each time we add smoke wood to the coal, that smokey goodness fills our nostrils with the smells that we remember as children helping dad with the family Sunday dinner. It's part, a big part for me, of the circle of life. SJ