This is a picture of the grill my Grandfather made for cooking in the Vermont fireplace. It’s pretty nifty; adjustable height, sturdy, and in this case expanded with the addition of a large fish cage on top of the regular grill. When I was a kid, my job was to spritz any flare-ups with a squeeze bottle. On the grill are burgers done according to his recipe: with an egg and chopped onions mixed in. (He often added some ketchup too but we left it out.) While the burgers were cooking, I made chicken soup pretty much exactly the way my Grandmother did, although I added garlic since my family was all sick. Thus did the house once again fill with the smells that permeated it since before I was born.
