Cem Kesemen

I bought a barbecue.

I bought a barbecue.

The model matters. I know it very well. I care deeply about it.

It’s a Weber Q 1000.

I know that it gets pretty hot, like a barbecue should.

I bought a barbecue based on thorough research.

I bought a barbecue based on price, size and features (like a cast-iron grates) or lack thereof (like no thermometer).

I had barbecued before, but not like this, not with gas.

I scoured the web for reviews. I devoured YouTube videos. I compared every-fucking-thing.

And I love it.

Feels great, works great. Does exactly what I want from it.

Are there better ones? I know there is—this is literally the cheapest model.

That matters quite a lot. This one has everything I want, and I haven’t overpaid for a single feature I actually won’t use.

Did I comparison shop? You bet. Search for better availability or pricing? Of course.

I got it from a retailer that had a good return policy though, just in case.

I buy almond butter1 the same way too. We’ve ended up with a brand we like.

Did I get ripped off? Doubt it, the price chart was pretty flat on CamelCamelCamel.com

I bought a barbecue. I researched the hell out of it, and got the one that I’d enjoy the most.

This is also the way I bought an Ooni Koda 12” pizza oven. And my used PC for my homelab. And my new M1 MacBook Air. Our TV, my computer display, the car I drive, the microphone I speak into during meetings, the couch we sit on.

Be meticulous. Buy things you need. Don’t make rash decisions.


  1. Thinking back, who the f compares purchase experiences of consumer goods to perishable food items anyway?