In addition to being a highly particular foodie, I have perpetually been sort of a grill snob. For our little concrete box in Cofradia, we inherited from an unknown local resident the above little charcoal grill, with a remarkably shiny cover and a very brittle grate inside. We only broke it out for big parties (like Profesora Mabel's b-day), because it was such a pain in the ass to light in the Cof's densely humid climate. In fact, you can see a bottle of pure unleaded gasoline to the right, which we would pour onto the charcoal in large amounts, then light, and then blow blow blow, in the half-hope of getting the antiquated thing lit.
We were successful about half the time.
