I thought gas grills were not “real grills” — I was wrong

I spent years believing charcoal was the only “real” way to grill, but after switching to gas for a rooftop terrace setup, I realized I had been valuing tradition over convenience more than actual cooking experience.

For most of my life, grilling meant charcoal. It wasn’t even a preference I questioned; it was just the way it was supposed to be done. Lighting the coals, waiting for the perfect heat, and working with a live fire felt like part of the ritual. Gas grills always seemed like a shortcut, something you used when you didn’t care enough about the process.

That mindset stayed with me for years. Even when gas grills became more advanced, I still associated them with a slightly lesser experience. Real grilling, in my mind, required fire, patience, and that unmistakable smoky setup that comes with charcoal. Then I moved into a place where that logic stopped working quite so well.

Why I always preferred charcoal

Part of the appeal of charcoal grilling was the process itself. There was something satisfying about arranging the coals, waiting for them to ash over, and learning how to control zones of direct and indirect heat.

The flavor also played a role. Even if the difference was sometimes subtle, I always felt charcoal gave food a deeper, slightly more complex taste. Burgers, steaks, and grilled vegetables all seemed to carry a bit more character when cooked over real coals.

But just as important was the feeling. Charcoal grilling felt intentional. It slowed everything down in a way that made the entire experience more immersive.

The turning point

The change didn’t come from dissatisfaction. It came from context. When I started looking for a grill for a penthouse terrace, the usual charcoal setup suddenly felt less practical. Fire safety became a real consideration. Wind, neighbors, building rules, all of it started to matter in a way it never had before.

I wasn’t just thinking about cooking anymore. I was thinking about responsibility. The idea of managing open flames in a more exposed, elevated space made me hesitate more than I expected. That’s when I decided to try gas properly for the first time instead of dismissing it outright.

The first experience with gas grilling

The difference was immediate, but not in the way I expected. There was no waiting for coals, no uncertainty about heat levels, no constant adjustment to keep the temperature stable. I turned it on, let it preheat, and started cooking within minutes. It felt almost too simple at first, as if I were skipping steps that mattered.

But as soon as I started cooking, that feeling disappeared. The heat was consistent, the control was precise, and the results were exactly what I wanted. There was no guessing, no rushing, and no second-guessing whether the fire was too hot or too uneven.

Why gas didn’t feel like a compromise

What surprised me most was how quickly the “loss” I expected didn’t feel like a loss at all. Yes, there is less of the ritual. You don’t build a fire, and you don’t get that same smoky atmosphere from the start. But in practice, the cooking experience itself felt almost identical in the ways that matter most.

The food still develops proper sear and texture. You still get grill marks, caramelization, and that outdoor cooking character. And importantly, you still get the social aspect, standing outside, cooking for people, and being part of the moment instead of being stuck inside. What changed wasn’t the essence of grilling. It was the effort required to get there.

The biggest shift for me was practical. With charcoal, grilling always felt like an event. Something you planned around. With gas, it became something I could do whenever we fancy a BBQ dinner. A weekday dinner, a quick evening meal, or a casual weekend cook no longer requires preparation or hesitation. That alone changed how often I actually used the grill.

I still understand why people love charcoal. The ritual, the smoke, and the process are real parts of the experience, and they matter to many people. But after switching to gas in a setting where practicality actually mattered, I stopped seeing it as a downgrade. It’s not a replacement for tradition but different way to get to the same result with far less friction.