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Dear Crockpot,
Crockpot, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but people in the foodie community tend to be really down on you. I am not quite sure why you’ve become the Sandra Lee of small kitchen appliances, Crockpot, cause in my book, you’re aces.
Remember that time we made those Chipotle Beef Short-Ribs? Those were like, really really good. Thank you, Crockpot, cause the day we made those, I was at work most of the day, and even though Husband was home, you and I both know that he doesn’t quite grasp the concept of pesky little things like cooking temperatures. (Like that time he tried to cook a Stouffer’s French Bread Pizza at 250F! Seriously, you and I had a good LOL over that!)
I also really have to take my hat off to you for always agreeing to be the designated Cook on Thanksgiving, and keeping the mashed potatoes warm all day so I can mash in the morning, guest-free. Sure, that third glass of Gewertzaminer before 2pm last year may have meant we all ate dry turkey, but everyone commented on how light and fluffy the potatoes were! Kudos, Crockpot. Nice save.
But your crowning achievement yet would have to be the Pulled Pork you whipped up this past Labor Day weekend. I may have called it a night and went to bed, but not only did you pull an all-nighter, you also kept the pork warm until 4pm the next day for our party! The pulled pork (with a bit of effort from me on the whole pulling part…I can’t exactly expect you to do everything) was moist and deeply flavorful – the kind of flavor that you only get when you cook something for like 16 hours. Seriously, Crockpot, I don’t know if there are words to describe your awesomeness.
So the next time you feel that I am neglecting you for Miss Orange Creuset or Mr All-Clad Sautee Pan, just remember – I love you all equally, but in very different ways. (Though, between you and me, Crockpot, you will always be my special little guy.)
xoxo,
Kitty
When last we left our heroine, she was munching on roasted chick peas, throwing avocado on anything edible, cooking you shrimp scampi and promising her dear readers a version of one her most favoritist meals of all time.
But then things happened, which, in no particular order involved tight deadlines, covering at work for a honeymooner, and a 75 pound dog named Charley.
The favoritist meal ever is coming, I promise. But first, let’s warm things up with an oft’ taken for granted classic that happens to be not only delicious, but also one heck of a veggie fake-out.
DO: Arrive at Prospect Park’s most prime sledding hill one and a half hours before school lets out.
DON’T: Use the center of the sledding path to walk back up the hill. That’s sledding 101.
DO: Allow rosy faced cherubs a full 30 second window to build their nerve – before you cut ahead of them.
DON’T: Stare oddly at the only couple of thirty-somethings who are there, sans children.
DO: Choose one of the other 28 acres of park land to build your Park Slope snowperson with your home schoolers. The foot of the most prime sledding hill is likely not a smart choice.
DON’T: Purposely steer into 8 year olds who have not yet learned to immediately vacate the foot of the hill at the end of the ride.
DO: Purposely steer into the Park Slope snowperson.
DON’T: Wear too many layers. Using muscles you haven’t needed since grade school makes you sweat. A lot.
DO: Make a batch of Maple-Walnut Oatmeal Scones to enjoy with a pot of Darjeeling tea when you return from your adventure. If you are able to adhere to the above mentioned rules, I may just make a batch for you.
My Husband Hates Veggies 