It seemed like a good idea to build a smoke center off the back of our house. So Mauri, along with a licensed contractor, got to work.

Soon he was smoking meat and roasting coffee—winter, spring, summer, and fall—to his heart’s content. 

Thirteen years later the Traeger still has some life in it, but we thought maybe it was time to upgrade.

Yesterday Mauri drove to a Portland warehouse to pick up our new smoker. He e-mailed me this progress report.

It’s almost home!

Papa Murphy’s helped us initiate this new and improved baking system. 

And just one more splurge to celebrate the purchase:

Who’d'a thought chocolate chip cookies could taste so good from a wood-pellet smoke cooker!

Last night we six (two parents / four “kids”) celebrated Mom’s 84th birthday at Gustav’s. A distinct cigar smell crossed our table at some point in our meal, and we all simultaneously noticed and wondered aloud how anyone could think that was okay. The subject took up 15 seconds max of our dinner conversation but it made me remember back to the days when our clothes would be saturated with smoke smell after eating “out.” But now on Tuesdays during my hour-long date with Margi at a local coffee shop my clothes become saturated with the smell of coffee. I can live with that.