BBQ x Everything

I am giving a talk at TEDxBristol on 8 November! 

It will, genuinely, actually, for real, be about how BBQ is the solution to some of the world’s trickiest problems…

The meme really says it all.

There’s a whole day of talks! I’ve had previews of most of them, being that we’re a pretty chatty cohort, and every one I’ve seen has been excellent. If you just want to pop in for one session (perhaps the third one), I’m sharing the evening slot with Romy Gill, Stark Holborn, Martin Bisp and Amelia Howe, which is pretty incredible.

Not to spoil the whole thing, but I am painfully conscious that there’s a natural inclination to believe ‘I like a thing, therefore it must be good for everyone’. Be that herbal supplements, yoga, fascism or BBQ. And I’m not proposing that BBQ itself is the solution to all our problems. But BBQ - although not a metaphor for the solutions we need - does make for a really good analogy. I promise that will make sense after the talk. Well, hopefully. Please do come along if you can.

The most disappointing thing, of course, is that I can no longer make fun of people who give TED talks.

Here’s the thing though:

I think that BBQ itself actually is the solution to some problems. And not just an empty stomach. BBQ is a very accessible hobby and a mindful pastime and a quaint community practice with a rich and authentic history. It is all those things! As are knitting, Pokemon and Morris Dancing. But BBQ also brings some unique traits to the table.

One example: BBQ can’t be rushed. The relationship with time is intrinsic to BBQness. On one hand, that relationship can be a little fraught. There’s the dreaded, but inescapable ‘stall’ at the midpoint of a BBQ. There are competition tricks to cook ‘fast and hot’, so you’re turning out briskets in five hours instead of twelve. Hacks to try and pare off some of those empty hours.

On the other end, those empty hours are the point. BBQ is defined by being low and slow: the process and the purpose are inextricably intertwined. In fact, BBQ’s relationship with slow time is not only inherent, but also positive. It encourages you to embrace the moments where you have to do nothing. Take, for instance, one basic BBQ rule of thumb: ‘the amount of time it takes to light coals is the amount of time it takes to drink a beer’. This varies (coals light faster in Australia), but it shows that BBQ has, if anything, a positive relationship with downtime. You’re ‘stuck’ there: enjoy yourself.

That relationship with the empty hours is why BBQ makes for great hobby/mindful pastime/community practice. It forces you to engage with yourself and with those around you. BBQs are wonderful places for companionable silence. They’re also natural spaces to talk. You’re all stuck there. You’re all on the same side. You’re all distracted. You’re all waiting. It is, in fact, the best place to chat.

… and I’m putting this notion to the test.

Allow me to introduce my latest mad scheme:

Kindling 

Kindling is based on my belief that the best conversations happen around the fire. It takes the form of a four page, tabloid-format newspaper. Each issue is themed around one big, critical question: Which is the best Keanu Reeves movie? Who is the best athlete you’ve ever seen live? Who is your favourite member of the X-Men?* The really important stuff; critical for fireside discussion.

Each issue of Kindling also comes with some trivia and fun facts to help fuel the debate. And one guest perspective from an expert on that particular topic. These essays are fun and personal, they help inspire the conversation. They’re also, conveniently, meant to be about ten minutes long - about the length of time it take for your coal to start. Something to read with your beer.

Kindling is newspaper format because it is, in fact, actual kindling. When you’re done, toss it on the fire. Unlike my previous publishing endeavours, this one is designed to be ephemeral. There are no issue numbers or editions. The point of Kindling is to start the conversation. Once that’s accomplished, Kindling can go forth to Valhalla.

I’ll have some issues of Kindling with me in Bristol (see above) to show off. The ideal outcome is that Kindle becomes freely available through partners and distributors. Butchers, grocers, log deliverers, hardware stores: they can put their logo on it and drop it in with their outgoing deliveries as a fun, free surprise for their customers. (Chippies, pubs, cinemas also welcome.) I’m funding the first few print runs myself, and making sure the contributors get paid. However, I’m keen to find sponsors as well as distribution partners for the long-term.

If you’re interested in supporting Kindling as a writer, distributor, partner, sponsor, evaluator (I know, I’m fun at parties) or whatever, drop me a line. It may very well flare out after this first go, but, why not?

Honestly, it feels good to make something again, and if there’s one thing I believe in, it is BBQ.

_{*Constantine. Serena. Magneto.}

I am obviously biased ‘cause I think the author is nifty, but I think Stay by a Spell is delightful. It made me laugh (a lot), there’s a great bookshop cat (with tentacles) and the whole thing is both incredibly sweet whilst also being gently subversive of ye olde fantasy tropes. Basically my cup of tea. You can now pre-order in the US (Barnes & Noble) and UK (Waterstones, Blackwell’s). And your local bookshop would undoubtedly gleefully pre-order it if you asked nicely.