Thursday, July 7, 2011
After a night of drinking in Flagstaff, I whipped this sucker up on the grill in the middle of the woods. It conquers all. Big smoky flavor, buttermilk beer battered onion rings, melted sharp cheddar. The toasted french roll could barely hold up to all the beer, beef, onion, cheese and flavor contained within. Upon finishing this monster, I felt like I had just been kicked by a mule straight in the gut. Nothing to do but drink more Grand Canyon Brewing Black Iron IPA and lay on the couch.
Can't nobody step to my dog grillin' skills. Nobody.