If I were to guess, I think The Wife would like it if I used the grill a few more times before the chill of autumn settles in. We have a detached garage that sits towards the end of our property. It seems like the din of fall makes the walk to and from the garage more like an arduous expedition rather than the same 40-step walk (from door to door) that I’ve done since assembling the grill in the spring.
(I would ask The Wife about all of this, but that would require us having a conversation about something other than The Kid or work. This is a seeming impossibility these days. And besides, we’re married. I don’t have to talk to her anymore.)
What I do know is that there are flavors that The Wife likes and those she loves. Cilantro falls into the later category. If she approved of such things, you would see her walking around with a wad of the pungent little leaves tucked into her lower lip like a hunk of Skoal.
Al Dente: A Blog About Eating 