Deranged, but with an explanation.
When we adjourned our last meeting, I had announced to the assembled my plans for a brick oven. I harbor no illusions (and you oughtn't, either) that I am doing this for any reason other than I think it's bewilderingly cool.
My baking skills are, at very best, "borderline adequate." Baking, in my experience, demands a set of traits which, in the Joke-ish bosom, are woefully underdeveloped. It requires a level of attentiveness -- and consistency of attentiveness, at that -- which I am not yet comfortable providing.
But I don't care.
I want one.
I also have masonry skills that are on the cusp of "nil" and "nonexistent." I don't have the slightest clue where in my back yard I'll place it or how (in)frequently I'll use it or how wildly off-budget this will be or how many* pizzas (pizze?) I would have to fire off in order for this to pay for itself or the unbelievable planning required to prepare something therein or even how likely I am to wake up, hospitalized with a brick lodged somewhere delicate upon my person and TFBIM in police custody. I haven't even considered the maintenance of the beast or where on earth I'm going to get enough wood to fuel the damned thing.
Something that heartens me is that others, equally unsuited and deeply unprepared, have managed to achieve this goal. It speaks to that atavistic clump of cells in my brain that revels in applying live fire to ingredients in order to transform them into food. I hope it doesn't speak to that atavistic clump of cells in my brain that dreams of dropping a successful medical practice to become a winemaker or leaving the stock exchange to start baking wedding cakes.
The lovely and gracious Kim noted that men generally do not allow a lack of skill to interfere with the pursuit of a project. In this case that is true, although in sharp contradistinction to some of my brethren, I am keenly aware that I have no such skills and/or it will probably pose a some measure of difficulty.
But I would wind up with something VERY cool.
My baking skills are, at very best, "borderline adequate." Baking, in my experience, demands a set of traits which, in the Joke-ish bosom, are woefully underdeveloped. It requires a level of attentiveness -- and consistency of attentiveness, at that -- which I am not yet comfortable providing.
But I don't care.
I want one.
I also have masonry skills that are on the cusp of "nil" and "nonexistent." I don't have the slightest clue where in my back yard I'll place it or how (in)frequently I'll use it or how wildly off-budget this will be or how many* pizzas (pizze?) I would have to fire off in order for this to pay for itself or the unbelievable planning required to prepare something therein or even how likely I am to wake up, hospitalized with a brick lodged somewhere delicate upon my person and TFBIM in police custody. I haven't even considered the maintenance of the beast or where on earth I'm going to get enough wood to fuel the damned thing.
Something that heartens me is that others, equally unsuited and deeply unprepared, have managed to achieve this goal. It speaks to that atavistic clump of cells in my brain that revels in applying live fire to ingredients in order to transform them into food. I hope it doesn't speak to that atavistic clump of cells in my brain that dreams of dropping a successful medical practice to become a winemaker or leaving the stock exchange to start baking wedding cakes.
The lovely and gracious Kim noted that men generally do not allow a lack of skill to interfere with the pursuit of a project. In this case that is true, although in sharp contradistinction to some of my brethren, I am keenly aware that I have no such skills and/or it will probably pose a some measure of difficulty.
But I would wind up with something VERY cool. Or, I'll wind up with a misshapen 3rd World concrete bird/vermin crematorium.
-J.
* The average artisanal pizza, baked by an Italian -- from Italy proper, not from Brooklyn -- runs $12 ovah heah.
Comments
Just you, waving your barbeque tongs, happily burning stuff....
Heather - God bless you for being impressed even before I've done anything.
-J.
It's fantastic.
Therefore, i proclaim this job:
do-able.
By you.
Get to it.
I have faith.
Because I can see only good things coming from a backyard DIY project that requires fire and electricity.
And J - if your bricklaying/builder skills reflect my crafting skills - you'll have an image of that first picture in your head and will end up with something closely resembling the second.
Maybe Suse could knit you some pizzas?
The latter oven is something to fear, not to aspire. It looks like something disturbed teenagers would build to cremate small woodland creatures to which they have been especially unkind.
And the opening is too small for a pizza.
-J.