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When I met Steven in 2002, I hadn’t even achieved the rank of Beginner Griller. As old-fashioned as it sounds, the role of griller in my family (though I loved to cook) had always been played by a male. After promising Workman Publishing I’d act as Mr. Raichlen’s chauffeur and food stylist for several scheduled appearances—the first one being at 7 a.m. the following morning— I had just hours to shop and get up to speed. On the menu? Beer can chicken, grilled sweet corn, and cinnamon-grilled peaches with all the necessary swap-outs. Talk about baptism by fire! Point being, I feel qualified to write about rookie mistakes because I’ve made (or at least observed) nearly all of them.
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