Hungry People Unite


Saturday, May 28, 2011

Usually I'm Easy Going(Mr. Hyde), in me Meet the Asshole...

WTF MAN... WHO ATE MY BACON???!!!!(usually, will bring out the Dr. Jekyel)... I buy bacon for my own consumption, if I share any with you, consider yourself lucky. Baked potatoes for an instantce, who in there right mind doesn't like a fully loaded baked potatoe... the Chef in me realizes that, and I'm happy to oblige. The hungry, home cook in me, the man who buys certain Items to accompany certain meals, I eat to satisfy my tatstebuds, not yours, you eat because I allow you the pleasure.
2 cases in point: A few months ago, back at the Old Place, having already had supper earlier that night, Mr. Hyde, had already prepared the evening meal for the overstayed, now unwelcomed guest, who had pushed to the limit, erything she could possibly do wrong. Well it was time for the midnight snack I normally prepare just for just myself and the wife, sometimes the baby is awake and will join in the festivities. I happened to be craving BLTs at this particular time, so, that's what the hell we ate. My mother in law in the other room, up watching TV, and she was getting no bacon(the baby didn't either). I don't recall what he did eat, but it wasn't bacon. I proceded to make our sandwiches, and then zipped off up the stairs, to devour down the groceries. A few minutes had passed, when all of a sudden, I smelled, well bacon. My first thought was "Oh, it's just the lingering aroma, from what I myself, had just made. Then it got stronger... I finished off my sandwich, blood boiling, and waited for the Mrs. to finish hers off, so that I could go investigate, I mean take our plates to the kitchen. In comes Dr. Jekyel, after he wittnesses another pan had been used to fry up some MORE DAMNED BACON, I then proceded to tell My mother in law, if you have to eat bacon everytime you smell it(most people do), that she was gonna have to buy her own supply, cause she was cuttin me short on my bacon consumption. My oldest son @16, doesn't know how, or should I say hasn't been taught the fine art of cooking bacon, for this very reason. If I were to teach him, let's just say that one of the people in this story, wouldn't be around to tell it LOL.
So, what sent me in this rage to write this? The bacon, I just wasn't sure how to tell it, and then, well she again, in her overstayed state of being, messes with my food. Oh, believe me, this time it wasn't bacon, she learned that lesson. Last Sunday, 5/15/11, if you remember, the family had hotdogs. Well, in order to achieve this wonderfully simple meal, I needed to go to the store and aqcuire a few things. To get there, I had to walk, which is a favorite pass-time, so from me no complaint, except that it was a tad bit chilly, which the brisk walk would soon take care of, but on the way back, it had started to drizzle, there in lies the complaint. My children, specifically, the one not pictured, with the family during meal time, had requested the hotdogs, with which, I knew I had to jump to action in making the sauce. The family, and all who are lucky enough to try it enjoy the sauce. Matter of fact, my cousin(he makes his own) is still as of lastnight(05/23/11) at work, trying to learn the secret... prolly the thirtieth time I've been asked the question. I've overtime, parted with some knowledge, but what master, parts with all he knows? Just as in the potatoe, I like my hotdogs stuffed. So in my visit to the store, I purchased all that wasn't at home to load my hotdogs. Meat to make the sauce, onions, coleslaw, some spices, french fries to accompany the meal. That was a slightly overwhelming load, for the trek back home.
So what's all the fuss? As I stated earlier, I cook to satisfy my cravings, and plan all the meal accompniments accordingly, which means, you don't get to eat the last of anydamnthing I buy, you eat the leftovers of the actuall meal itself. You didn't ask for the works, that I myself walked to the store to buy using my money. I awoke Sunday afternoon, hungry as usuall, ready to eat one of two things. At the time I wasn't sure which oneit was I was about to eat. Saturday, the night before I made the hotdog sauce, I made pulled pork... if you go back through the words of this very post, you'll notice the only ingredient to match up with both meals is the coleslaw. Now by this time I had deduced who it was that had eatin it, but she was in her room eating, I heard the fork scraping the plate she was eating from. I sort of stumbled around the kitchen, still dumbfounded that someone could do something so haneous, even though she feels as though the world should cater to her every becon call, I knew at the instant I found it missing, that we had made the recent purchase of a small personal fridge for the bedroom, to combat this very issue. After about eight minutes hovering around the kitchen, she entered with plate in hand, with proof who ate it, I told her point blank, I wish she wouldn't have eaten the last of my coleslaw. She got mad, said she'd buy me more, which I know by the time she gets paid, she will have hoped I forgot. Still steamed about this more than a week later, we all know that ain't gonna happen.
While I'm on the subject if things that burn my ass in the culinary world, and fitting into this story... If someone don't create a hotdog bun big enough to house all the gourmet toppings normal people like to add, well oh shit, I guess I'll just do this myself. It's something I've been planning on for almost two years now anyway... and who do I put the order in to for the extinction of capers?

No comments:

Post a Comment