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And you will know us by the trail of dead matches

The hot weather has returned and with it, the beginning of my bi-annual humiliation at the barbecue. We usually try a spot of alfresco cooking once at either end of the summer – the second time just far enough away from the first to forget how bad it was. I’ve nothing against the food itself. I love meat and skewered vegetables cooked over hot coals as much as the next man. The problem is, I’m one of the un-men who is fundamentally great at making piles of dead matches and useless at making fires that burn. It hasn’t always been this way. As a ...