THE CAMPFIRE IS A PRIMITIVE THROWBACK TO HUNTER-GATHERER DAYS.
Though grocery stores are now largely the hunting grounds instead of the woods and plains, modern bounty like burgers, hot dogs, and s’mores simmer and roast over the glowing embers from backyard fire-pits to metal campground rings. There is a sense of community encircling the flames as family and friends entertain with stories, libations, and song as a summer day fades into night.
Thank goodness for my wife, Jan. A two-time restaurant owner trained in the culinary arts, she eschews traditional summer fare for greater challenges, elevating the fireside cooking experience to a constant yum. We travel and camp a lot, and over the years the al fresco menu has spanned the gamut, from rack of lamb encrusted with wheat flour, whole-grain mustard, and panko to leftover cheese pizza slices that have been individually wrapped, frozen, and thawed before being topped over the glow with roasted veggies. When friends share venison or moose sausage, she’ll mix everything over the fire with simple potatoes in aluminum foil accented with tiny pieces of bacon, onion, garlic, salt, and pepper. But at the top of her list is a fire-grilled roasted Greek salmon (see recipe) in foil with fresh spinach, feta cheese, and olives—a Mediterranean delight inspired by our first trip to Greece. If there are leftovers, add scrambled eggs in the morning.
This all starts with mise en place, that French culinary term that translates to “putting in place” or “gathering.” In essence, get your stuff together. In a large plastic tub container, labeled on the cover with a Sharpie and masking tape, are indispensable gizmos. These can be purchased new or found outside for cheap among the many yard sales and transfer stations throughout the land. Critical are paraphernalia including 6- to 8-inch metal tongs, a long spatula with a metal or wood handle, a couple of mitt pot holders, an 8- to 12-inch frying pan, a 1- to 2-quart pot, lids, and tin foil. Salt and pepper are no-brainers for spice staples, but there is also granulated onion and garlic, plus a small bottle of Tabasco and condiments like ketchup and mustard.
All of these essentials are worthless unless there is a roaring fire, which falls under my domain. Fire building and starting it is its own art. Stack the odds of success with purchased dried wood in bundles easily found around campgrounds. We’re lucky to live in an area with a free newspaper, so kindling’s easy. The key is to achieve the proverbial “bed of glowing coals” that falls between ashes and a blazing conflagration. Using the adjustable grate by the fire ring, while wearing the aforementioned mismatching mitts, allows for more control in attaining a somewhat even temperature over the embers, which not only provide warmth but keep the black flies and mosquitoes at bay.
Though we can be focused on the cooking, it is not lost on us that food prep over an open fire is something we are doing together outside surrounded by forest, mountains, and sky. We are engaged in an ancient tradition of food and fire, of patience and flexibility as the coals shift like the wind. Multitasking? No thank you, except maybe for refilling those adult beverages.
Cooking by campfire also delights our senses with the flames’ snaps, crackles, and pops. The smells whether they be of the culinary creation or the wavering smoke is a soothing element of summer. There is a simplicity to it, a nostalgia to those summers spent toasting and often charring marshmallows at camp. As the sun goes down, the flickering fire itself becomes something of a stage for outdoor dinner theater all can enjoy.
