We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
If readers have any better ideas (where the shipping wouldn't be $1000), let me know.
Did I tell the story here about how the squirrels chewed through the propane hose on my old grill during the winter, and the unfortunate result when I opened the valve and tried to light the grill? Needless to say, that is an ex-grill.
Beware. When the makers claim that a device will do two differing functions, it usually does neither one well.
If you can handle the trip to town, you should be able to find a better grill than that on clearance at Lowe's or the Home Depot for around $200. Maybe a little more.
As for a smoker, I really like my Bradley smoker. I actually own two, one 4-shelf (the cabin) and one 6-shelf (home). I can do 18 racks of baby backs in the 6-shelf. You can get a 4-shelf for about $350 if you shop around.
It's not a perfect device; heat distribution could be better. But the people on the Bradley forum have come up with a modification anyone handy with a drill can handle that solves that problem.
I'm no barbecue master. I'm still learning. But trust me, my friends and family are more than happy to line up to consume my homework. Last month I finally turned out a brisket that met my standards (moist and tender, but NOT falling apart).
This way you'll have a good grill, and a good smoker. It's well worth spending a bit more for that.
Our pleasure, BD. I will say the same about Maggie's Farm; it's one of my thrice weekly pleasures.
Oh, and that brisket: 22 hours, it took. Mind you, I only had to look in on it for a moment here and there; it's not like I stood over the thing.
But when your wife clutches your upper arm and says, "I don't care what anyone else wants. If you're cooking for me, that's exactly the recipe I want. Don't. Change. Anything." It makes you glad for the effort.