* This essay column is written by a longtime foreign resident of Japan.

Whether it's due to getting older and lazier or just the novelty having long since worn off, I must admit to not doing it as much as I once did. While it certainly provides much pleasure and enjoyment, and not just to me, I often can't be bothered. Only twice last year, I recall. A pity really as summer's a great time for barbecuing.

Our two Toyotas are housed in a concrete garage set into the hillside between the house and, for most of the year, a dry riverbed. The top of this structure was originally covered with soil, but I removed that to provide a useful level space. And it was there, in May 1992, that I built a substantial fieldstone barbecue.

The stones actually came from a roadway being bulldozed through a forest a 10-minute drive from my place on the way to Tsuru-shi. I collected the flat-sided stones, some of which have an attractive rusty hue, then brought them home to wash and then cement together.

With a base of 90 cm by 120 cm and a height of some 70 cm, the BBQ required a fair number of stones. Even so, I must have overestimated the amount needed as I have some leftovers lying around. Rather than building straight sides, I opted for a slightly staggered, more natural look; well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it! Thankfully, the overall effect is pleasing.

Giving me greater satisfaction is the fact that the design proved effective. The cement-lined fire pit was built to house a wire-mesh grill measuring 45 cm by 70 cm, giving a roomy cooking surface. The grill is supported on two iron rods that fit through metal pipes that penetrate the walls of the fire pit. As the rods can be laid atop the BBQ wall, the grill can be positioned on three levels above the hot coals. I fitted wooden handles on the rods to avoid the danger of branded palms.

The only design feature I would change concerns the hollow interior, which is presently inaccessible. If there's ever a next time, I'd build a cupboard inside the BBQ that could be used to store the charcoal and fire lighters.

I used to favor a mixture of oval briquettes and chunks of charcoal to produce the coals for cooking over, but have moved more in favor of burning only charcoal, not knowing what chemicals lurk in the man-made briquettes.

Barbecuing is certainly a healthy and simple way of preparing food. Not being much of a cook -- not cooking at all, to be honest -- I like grilling an assortment of foods on the BBQ. And our guests seem to enjoy the results.

It's certainly pleasant eating outdoors and I think the food tastes better there, too. Plus when it gets dark there's the possibility of seeing a flying squirrel glide overhead as one lives in a nest box I fixed on a nearby tree.

I built the original box for owls, but subsequently found it occupied by a musasabi, or flying squirrel. The ungrateful tenant subsequently chewed away the back of that nest box, which I replaced with its present home.

As the box is at the same height as our second-floor living room, around midday I sometimes see the squirrel's head and its upper body protruding from the entrance hole. But it's far more interesting watching its rectangular tea-tray shape silhouetted against the night sky as it glides over to the cedars on the other side of the garden.

It's more annoying, however, when the pesky creature lands on the house roof and practices its clog-dancing routine above my head when I'm trying to sleep. You'd hardly believe the racket one flying squirrel can make as it bounds about on a roof -- after all, the thing can only weigh a kilo or two.

Hey, I wonder if they're good to eat? Might be nice marinated in a piquant dark-cherry sauce -- then barbecued!

If you have any comments (or recipes!) please e-mail me at jtweekly@japantimes.co.jp

The Japan Times Weekly: July 19, 2003
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