Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Mosherpit vs. Cooking

It's a little known fact about me, but I love to cook. And not just cold cereal.

Real things. Like, things that are hot. Possibly even in an oven.

And on a grill. That's just the manly thing to do. And fun. It keeps you warm in the winter too.

I'm not quite sure when this little bug bit me, but I think it was down in college when I was living off campus. Usually I'd be making ramen or some easy, microwaveable dish. But sometimes I wanted something a little bit more substantial and that I could share with my roommates. Something like chili. Or sweet and sour chicken. Or bourbon chicken. Any kind of chicken, really.

And cakes.I loved making cakes.

Usually I would get fancy when the mood struck me, which wasn't often back then. Now that I'm married, however, and have a wife who gets food magazines, I'm struck by the bug a lot more often. Those pictures are very handy. They get stuck in your brain and you just can't help but think about how it would look on your plate.

That happened to me this weekend when I finally gave in and rustled up a braised, slow cooked pork shoulder that was big enough for eight people. It was pretty good too. And oh-so-easy to make. Toss a rub on it. Refrigerate. Put into the oven for six hours. Eat. That's my kind of meal. Okay, there are some incidentals like making the glaze and browning it, but really, it's a super simple dish. I think the hardest part was finding a plate it would fit on when it was done. A pizza dish will work wonders for that.

This is the recipe, for those who are interested. Look at it and tell me you wouldn't eat the hell out of that. You can't, because then you'd be a liar. Or a vegan or something. Try it. You'll like it. I promise. Though add a little bourbon when making the glaze. It does it wonders.

I honestly think my wife leaves those magazines around on purpose, because then she can just sit back and relax white I do all the heavy lifting for a change. That wouldn't be a surprise. She's much smarter than me.

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