Between the embers and the roast || Entre las Brasas y el Asado [Eng/Esp]

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Authored by @Xgerard

The fire was already lit, and the embers were beginning to paint the bottom of the grill red. On the grill, the cuts of meat sizzled with each drop of fat that fell, releasing that unmistakable aroma that announces the barbecue was well done. The offal, lined up like soldiers in formation, patiently waited their turn.

In the foreground, the metal cup brimming with Fernet and Coke seemed like a silent witness to the entire ceremony. The foam danced on the surface, catching reflections of the sky and the smoke. It was the sip that marked the pause between each turn of meat, between conversation and silence.

Because the barbecue isn't just food: it's ritual. And the fernet, dark and deep, mixed with the sweetness of the Coke, was like the afternoon's connecting thread. Among friends, with laughter that grew to the rhythm of the fire, time slowly melted away.

The person standing by the grill, tongs in one hand and a glass in the other, knew that at that moment he needed nothing more. Just the warmth of the embers, the taste of waiting, and a good fernet as his faithful companion.

El fuego ya estaba encendido y las brasas comenzaban a pintar de rojo el fondo del asador. Sobre la parrilla, los cortes de carne chispeaban con cada gota de grasa que caía, liberando ese aroma inconfundible que anuncia que el asado va por buen camino. Las achuras, alineadas como soldados en formación, esperaban su turno con paciencia.

En primer plano, el vaso de metal rebosante de fernet con Coca parecía el testigo silencioso de toda la ceremonia. La espuma danzaba en la superficie, atrapando reflejos del cielo y el humo. Era el trago que marcaba la pausa entre vuelta y vuelta de carne, entre charla y silencio.

Porque el asado no es solo comida: es ritual. Y el fernet, oscuro y profundo, mezclado con el dulzor de la Coca, era como el hilo conductor de la tarde. Entre amigos, con risas que iban creciendo al ritmo del fuego, el tiempo se deshacía sin apuro.

El que estaba junto a la parrilla, con la pinza en una mano y el vaso en la otra, sabía que ese momento no necesitaba nada más. Solo el calor de las brasas, el sabor de la espera, y un buen fernet como compañero fiel.



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1 comments
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A very poetic & dreamy barbeque.
Looks delicious!
My husband grills & he swears the fire, coals & sizzle is therapy.

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