Hamburgers, hot dogs, chicken, ribs, steaks, salmon and sausage.

If it can be cooked over a campfire, lad, you can grill it.

But what's simple is simple no more, and those who have been known to throw a slab of meat onto a hot fire with some measure of success may find themselves in the midst of an identity crisis.

And it goes beyond the modern debate of charcoal vs. gas. We're talking about the meaning of backyard barbecue itself.

This all came to me when a dozen cookbooks, weighing more than 20 pounds - all dedicated to grilling - landed on my desk.

First, I wondered, when did grilling require so much instruction?

Any man with a good eye, a spatula, a fork and - if necessary - a meat thermometer can prepare the main course of a cookout with little danger of failure as long as the cut of flesh isn't so cheap a dog would snarl at it or it hasn't been marinated into pulp.

That honorable standby, The Joy of Cooking, dedicates all of four pages to "outdoor cooking."

And what is more honorable - and more simple - than a wiener or a burger on the grill?

But according to a recently released survey by the Hearth, Patio & Barbecue Association, 63 percent of backyard chefs would like to have a celebrity chef as a grilling instructor.

How much more is there to say than marinate, grill, flip and serve?

Alas, as I turned through the newly arrived collection of cookbooks, I found they are dedicated not so much to the basics of grilling as to what a fashion writer would call "accessories."

That is, sauces, side dishes and desserts, which might or might not be cooked on the grill and could include "Irish Oatmeal Risotto," (The Best Barbecue on Earth, by Rick Browne, Ten Speed Press) and "Crepes with Grilled Nectarines," (Semi-Homemade Grilling 2, by Sandra Lee, Meredith Press).

Where once grilling was manly, it has become metrosexual.

Sauces, of course, have long been part of the grilling tradition, employed before, during or after the actual cooking of the meat. What would London broil be without that special marinade, or ribs without barbecue sauce?

But now we're talking about more than mild, medium and hot.

Consider "Guinness Mop Sauce" (Semi-Homemade Grilling 2), a mix of barbecue sauce and a stout-based braising liquid for a brisket. Or "Fig-Cabernet Vinegar Glaze," (Bobby Flay's Grill It!, by Bobby Flay, Stephanie Banyas and Sally Jackson, Clarkson Potter), which you are to apply to your filet mignons once they come off the fire. Even down-to-earth Al Roker has a recipe in his new book for "Tuna Provencale," made with shallots, basil, capers and ahi tuna.

This all sounds tasty, but it means special preparation, a concept once antithetical to grilling.

Still, if you have the time and are adventurous, I'm all in favor of cooking - and, of course, eating - "Seared scallops with chili-pepper dressing," (Sizzle, Julie Biuso, Julie Biuso Publications) and "Grilled Filet Mignon with Gorgonzola Pancetta and Peach-Balsamic Jam," (Grill It! Recipes, Techniques and Tools, by Chris Schlesinger and John Willoughby, Dorling Kindersley).