I’m calling it, One Pot Cooking for Men, and as you may have gathered, this is not your mom’s cooking show, or blog for that matter. More like a deranged, heat-loving, fire-farting, crazy-uncle-you-never-knew-you-had-in-the-first-place kind of blog.
Now, you may find this heard to believe but men love to eat. Yep, you heard it here first and, since most men’s wives get hip to their tricks far faster than any of us were led to believe, we men find ourselves standing in front of the `fridge, door open, little spittle of drool dripping down our chin waiting for something in the fridge to jump into our mouths without the need for us to make a conscious decision.
One day I asked my wife, “Baby, how `bout tonight, after you’ve finished mowing the yard, you make me your famous bacon wrapped chicken breasts stuffed with dried beef?” “Can you read?” my little cinnamon-bun spat in my general direction. “Well, sure I can, you know I just read that instruction sheet on putting that Eye-Key-Uh chair together. She cuts her eyes my way and with a Wednesday Addams smile dropped the cleaver “… and how’d that go?” “But baby, I’m hungry,” I plead.
“So, I decided that all I really needed to survive in the kitchen was a skillet, a Dutch oven, and a Chinese cleaver.”
She walks into the kitchen, grabs a book off the self, and as she walk by embeds it in my usually firm and ripped belly, which today is suffering from way to many biscuits with cream gravy …and yes, a side of sage sausage too. Happy?
My point here is not that I’ve gone soft in the middle but that I learned it is far easier to cook for myself than starve. Hunger is a great motivator and being a man I am by nature somewhat relaxed. I don’t like the word lazy, it’s mean. I mean relaxed and relaxed never happens when there’s more than one pot for me to work with, watch or wash.
There it is, the dreaded 3W’s. Work, Watch and Wash. This kind of thing if not curtailed can cut sharply into buzz time. So, I decided that all I really needed to survive in the kitchen was a skillet, a Dutch oven, and a Chinese cleaver. Oh, and for the record, I never — okay, usually never — use more that two of the above three implements of destruction for any one meal. Hence the title, One Pot Cooking for Men.
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