Dear Santa . . .

I know it is a bit early in the season, we are still several months away from the holiday season.  There is still Halloween, Thanksgiving and other holidays prior to your annual trip around the globe, but I just wanted to get my wish in early.  I know it will be some work, and magical powers that you possess would be of great help in accomplishing this task in a single night (still trying to figure out how you get down the chimney and into the family room without setting off the motion detectors), but I figured I would ask well in advance to give you and your project team time to figure the logistics.

So, here is my request. . . recently, I have found the perfect kitchen accessory.  Albeit, I have not seen it in person, but I am convinced none the less that it is the perfect addition to any home.  The ultimate supplement for the serious cook, grill fiend and meat lover.  It is, of course and indoor grill.  No, I am not talking about the grill insert that goes on a cooktop.  Nor am I describing that electric job by DeLonghi or Cuisinart that takes longer to cook a steak than setting on the pavement in July.  I am talking about this:

See how the meat rests above the charcoal, roasting to perfection with the heat further emanating from the surrounding brick.  The juices from the meat hitting the coals and imparting more flavor in the form of smoke.

Yes, this is indoors.  Yes, this is roasting meat and various meat products to perfection.  And, yes, I want one in my kitchen.

Am I daft?  Not hardly.  This unit of perennial grilling belongs in every home.  Think about it. . . no longer are you plagued by weather.  Temperature can be controlled to perfection without the interference of Mother Nature.  Roasting or grilling meat to transcendence when ever you wanted, without the need for an umbrella, hand-held cooling fan or winter coat.

My brother, who is traveling in South America found this in the home of one of his friends.  Yes, not only in the home, but in the kitchen.  Note the phone to the right and the refrigerator to the left.  And if this were my kitchen, my shit-eating grin would be even more diabolical than that in the picture below.  This man deserves to gloat.  He should be dancing and pointing at the camera, reveling in the superiority of his kitchen.  There could be nothing else in the room but a table, and it would still be exceptional.  The phone is so he can gaze blankly at the meat roasting above his coals and simultaneously call friends just to rub it in.

So, Dear Santa, I am not sure how you are going to do it, where you will put it, or how you will get it there . . . but THAT is what I want for Christmas.

Thanks in advance.