strip steak, mashed potato

A strip steak is grilled outdoors.

Old leftover baked potatoes are smashed.

One cup gravy is whipped out on the stovetop.

After reading several pages on lighting techniques, the conclusion is drawn that the Big Green Egg is no different in this respect than any other grill except perhaps a little easier. The BGE is wheeled outside for its second trial.  The process of getting the wood coals glowing and the oven chamber heating up to maximum takes about eight minutes. 

A strip steak is thawed and brought to room temperature. The steak is placed on the grill when BGE's oven chamber attains and maintains a temperature 650℉/345℃ . I notice it will not go higher. I investigate based on the BGE FAQs read last night. Upon inspection, I notice that when the lower vent is wide open then 1/2 of the window is blocked on the inside by a vertical clay barrier. This tells me that the gap in the lower fire box is not properly aligned with the outer vent door. This must be corrected by first removing the upper grill where items are cooked, then removing the remaining charcoals, then removing the smaller grill that holds the charcoals, in order to reach the inner circular ceramics that comprise the fire box and then rotate that assembly so that the vents align properly. This will provide full air flow. But what a mess! That's the plan. Even so, 650℉/345℃ is an admirable oven temperatures indeed. But it can be even hotter. 

The steak was overcooked. I'm good at this sort of thing, and even I overcooked the steak and not by neglect either. I was going on the intuition I've developed by just flat being ace at this sort of thing and now I have to make allowances for outrageous heat containment. 

True story. I went camping with a small group to a spot outside of Boulder Colorado. I took a bunch of stuff in coolers to experience a more refined outdoor living than the usual campout crap. Wine, wine glasses, service ware etc. I didn't use 3/4 the stuff I took up, but I was ready for anything. I was about 22 years old and not exactly like my roughneck friends. 

Up there the next day my acquaintances were cooking the life out of a pack of hotdogs on a makeshift grill. They had wood sticks underneath on fire and they were cooking the hotdogs over flames. I sat there and watched the hotdogs spit and sputter, their juices drain into the flames causing the whole thing to flare. Being the mad little arsonists they were, only flames would satisfy. They apparently didn't realize the hotdogs were already cooked and needed only to be heated over glowing embers, not flames. They persisted pushing around their hotdogs, poking them with sticks, moving them around until they blackened completely by extreme Vulcan torrefaction. I watched amused, and a bit dismayed, observing them destroy their meal. Finally I couldn't hold out any longer so I formulated a phrase that I thought suitably understated, "I think your hotdogs might be done."  They ignored me, of course, and kept right on killing the already cremated. Finally they ended their sadism and found they couldn't possibly eat the result. 

When the upper daisywheel on the BGE is closed and the lower vent also entirely closed, then the coals are suffocated almost immediately and the oven temperature drops within minutes to 250℉/120℃ cool enough to roll back inside, but I left it outside anyway because nobody seemed to be around. 

The potatoes were more of those small potatoes leftover from a week ago. I'm impressed they're still useful. Glad not to waste them. They were heated for just a few minutes in the microwave then split open and scooped into a bowl. A tablespoon of butter along with 1/4 cup heavy cream was heated in another small bowl. S/P mixed all together and the potatoes roughly smashed with a fork

One tablespoon butter was heated in a pan along with 3/4 tablespoon A/P flour. S/P  and a teaspoon Madras curry, then one cup commercial chicken broth whisked to a flavorful gravy.