It's been a tradition for as long as I can remember, the weekends are for grilling.

It all started off as a sort of dare. Years ago, on a random January Monday in 2007, the weather was so unseasonably nice, a bunch of us made plans to grill out that weekend. To share an experience over hot flame, to concrete those brotherly bonds in the charring of flesh... and the forecast changed. It turned out, that weekend would start Friday with sleet and ice. Saturday it turned to snow, and that night turned into a game of chicken.

"It's not too cold for us men..." blah blah blah... Skip forward to early evening, the sun went down, the winds picked up, and it was a ridiculous 14 degrees outside. Still, there were three kitchen platters full of raw meats. A little steak, some burgers, couple of chicken breasts, brats, and a lonely small pork loin covered in nuclear jerk sauce.

Turns out, when it's that cold, propane doesn't work efficiently. We went through three different tanks of gas that night. It was a poetic life lesson in patience, compromise, and the thermodynamics of bottled liquid propane. Still, we managed.

While you should, at least once, grill in the miserable snow and ice... I'll admit, it's not fun at the time, but it does make for good camaraderie.

Where do you draw the line on grilling?