Do you enjoy cooking classes? Do you like the one-on-one interaction with a culinary professional? Do you enjoy eating a meal you got to watch be prepared in front of you? Well, I’m offering you just that on February 9, 2018!

I hated grapes as a kid but I made an exception for them if they were peeled. Yes, I was that kid and it still pertains to some tannic skinned fruits today. I also didn’t like the seeds which just made me all kinds of high maintenance for my mom when trying to get me to eat them – whether it be an afternoon snack or snook into my Marvel comic laced lunch box.

I’m not sure why 2016 is in such a rush but it may be causing me to lose track of time. It only seems as though yesterday, I was driving down the highway admiring Spring’s cascade of honeysuckle that laced both sides of the road. It feels like every year, I’m constantly reminding myself to pick honeysuckle to make simple syrup and I never get around to it, but I digress – we’re here to talk grilling.

If doctors would prescribe baking to their patients, one might say “that the world would be a happier place.” I know, I know, don’t judge me for possessing a bit of childlike whimsy. But what if cookies had the capability of curing the worst of illnesses? And what if you could choose the type of cookie that cured your unwanted illness or disease? What if a chocolate chip cookie were capable of curing the chickenpox , a simple sugar cookie doused with sprinkles could cure pneumonia or just maybe a salted peanut butter chocolate chip oatmeal cookie took away your cancer?

We could go around in circles discussing whether or not ‘real chili’ has beans in it or not. But I’m simply going to shut down that discussion because I’ve never known chili to ‘not have’ beans in it until I saw something about it on a cooking show, and all the Texans were giving the rest of us ‘bean in our chili’ eaters the “thumbs down”. And that’s ok…we forgive them!

I remember my sister and I sitting on the back porch tearing yesterday’s newspaper into small ragged pieces and placing them into an empty can. Probably one of my grandmother’s #Folgers cans, you know the red one with the plastic lid? We used those as vessels to fulfill our need for the melty gooey, chocolatey goodness that would soon tangle our fingers in a web of mallowy strands and #cocoa smear. If I had to choose a house that I missed, it was this house with the huge backyard where we often watched the deer drink from the pond and the trees overflow with black walnuts, pears and apples. We were young and naive and had no real appreciation for the seasonal jewels that rolled across the forest floor. I mean, we ate the occasional fruit and cracked a few nuts now and again but nothing too serious. I remember seeing our next door neighbor gathering the nuts in the evening to crack for an evening snack.

This summer heat is working me over like crazy and even the sweat beads on my brow are becoming frustrated. It's like the sun has a vendetta and its unleashing hell and taking names, literally. But as far as I’m concerned it could never be too hot to eat chocolate or break into a textbook chocolate chip cookie. Chocolate chip cookies are my sacred-kind of childhood snack and you may call me a snob when it comes down to it. I mean, cookies run rampid on the inter webs, being stuffed with nutella and laced with truffles for the so-called ‘real foodies’ but you can keep those. I’m somewhat of a purist when it comes to the circular, sometimes amoeba-shaped little puckets that pair so well with cold milk and shakes alike. Yes, milkshakes and cookies are sheer perfection, just ask my inner eight year old, he’ll tell you all about it.