The past couple of weeks were just bizarre: three covid exposures, two (negative) tests (thank goodness); and a big old ice storm that had The Husband and a Daughter-in-Law (and a couple of granddaughters) working from our house for the latter part of this week.
During this time, I ordered a grocery pick-up from Walmart, which usually does a pretty good job of filling my orders. This time, they sent a pork shoulder (I'd ordered a butt) big enough to feed a family reunion and a beef roast big enough to do the same. I immediately cut the beef roast in two and froze both halves. The shoulder had a bone in it - I could wiggle the leg, for pete's sake - and I was daresome to try to butcher it. The Husband suggested that we call our son and see if it wanted to cook it in his smoker, but he was working and they had stuff to do, yada-yada. We put it in the mini-refrigerator that we bought back when our son and his family were living with us. It lives in my sewing room and serves mostly as a place to pile things, and I sometimes forget we have it.
Well, I remembered it this morning as I was placing another grocery order and saw "pork butt" in my purchased items list, and I thought, Oh, crap. Is that thing even still good? I quit what I was doing and hauled the thing to the kitchen. It smelled mildly funky right out of the package, but I washed it and sniffed it again, and pronounced it "aged" but not "rurnt."
My ancestors would be ashamed of the way I mangled that chunk of meat. There was no way to cut through the bone without a power tool or a hatchet and a stump. I ended up with one decent-size roast, and a bunch of fist-size chunks. The chunks are roasting in the oven as we speak. The roast is in the freezer.
I had to bleach everything in the kitchen.
After cleaning up the mess, I made another one. The two half-rotten bananas on our kitchen table are now -
Whew . . . I almost burned the banana nut muffins.
Good thing I was telling you about them, huh? ;)
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