Match-Light charcoal

Fabooooom! That's the sound — well, it should be the sound, anyway — of a grill full of Match-Light charcoal catching fire. The stuff goes up like an Iraqi ammo dump. On a windy day, a grill full of Match-Light is visible for several miles in any direction, spitting out a 3-4 foot lick of flame that dances wildly according to the impulsive shifts of the wind.

If barbecuing is inherently humorous — and there's plenty of evidence to support this — then Match-Light charcoal is the Tom Green of the grilling world. It does its thing with such clockwork regularity, and in such an over-the-top way, that it's hard to enjoy. Unless it's igniting your friend's pants. Which happens.

Kingston's official Match-Light website is, of course, oblivious to the danger of its own creation. And while its FAQ answers some fairly reasonable queries like "Do you have any tips for grilling chicken?" and "How long will the briquettes stay hot?", it fails to ask and answer such perfectly legitimate questions as:

Oh my God! Is this going to burn down my porch?

Why does this stuff burn at an eyebrow-searing level for a full 10 minutes before I'm left with any usable coals?

Should I be concerned that the coals themselves seem to emit chemical fumes that make looking at them painful?

Are there really people too daft to figure out how to use electric starters, grill chimneys or even old-fashioned lighter fluid to get a fire going? Who are they? Are they vulnerable to other confidence schemes? Could I have their mailing address?

It's strange that Match-Light exists, as it flies in the face of what barbecue is all about — being a man. A real man. A man who lights fires all by himself. But the red-blooded machismo of American barbecue culture is still evident on Kingston's own Match-Light website, where it recommends that you determine whether you're ready to cook by the following system:

Let your hand be your guide to gauge cooking temperatures — just carefully hold your hand, palm side down, over the coals where the food will be grilled. The length of time before you need to withdraw your hand gives you an accurate gauge of the coal's [sic] temperature:

Cooking Temperature Guide
Time — Temperature
2 seconds — High
3 seconds — Medium-high
4 seconds — Medium
5 seconds — Medium-low
6 seconds — Low
7+ seconds — Too Cool

So. Kingston wants us to gauge whether we're ready to cook by STICKING OUR HAND OVER HOT COALS UNTIL IT HURTS. Forgive an uncultured commentator for saying that this sounds exactly like something you would find in a Delta Kappa Epsilon manual, under the heading of "Pledges, Hazing Thereof."

"If the pledge withdraws his hand from the open flame before 5 seconds have elapsed, subject him to an additional half-dozen applications of the 'Rod of Ruin.' And you can probably start cooking the burgers."

No explanation exists for exactly why Match-Light is so overwhelmingly fiery. It's possible that Americans — being Americans — just demand more of everything: bigger portions in restaurants, bigger SUVs and bigger gouts of hellish flame belching off of their backyard grills.

Another explanation is that the lighter-fluid coating is simply cheaper than the coals themselves, and Kingston has figured out that by making each briquette roughly 50 percent chemical flame propellant, it can make cheaper coals that burn up more quickly.

Match-Light is some intense stuff, and would probably be perfect for burning a modern-day Joan of Arc on an ironic, kitschy combination grill / stake for heretics. Some might find its burning power to be a bit intense for cooking purposes, however.

But, if you can't stand the heat, get off of the porch. Particularly if it's on fire.

— James Norton (jrnorton@flakmag.com)