The Roast That Nearly Was: A Requiem
(When Good Pork Goes Bad)
Beautiful, isn't it?
I knew better. I knew the scent when I opened the refrigerator door since yesterday. With visions of prancing pork roasts dancing in my head, I kept telling myself that it was okay - that it was fine to cook.
I scored the fat, watched it curl over 30 minutes in a 450 degree oven. As a cook, and against my own tastebuds, I took a deep breath and mixed clover honey with Dijon mustard (I hate honey), ginger, garlic, spearmint, chocolate mint (an accident - the chocolate mint was supposed to be for cocktails), tarragon, lime thyme, caraway thyme, hardy marjoram, Herbs de Provence, mustard powder, fleur de sel, pink berry peppers, and white wine balsamic vinegar and drizzled it over the roast. I lovingly sacrified my last four carrots, two pounds of red potatoes, a shallot, 2 onions (yellow and red), another full head of garlic, a giant garnet yam, and my last two chayotes in the making or this dish that still has the house smelling like lavender and garlic.
I took a small slice from a corner and put it to my nose. Behind the mustard and honey and garlic, it was a bit gamey, like an old donkey sacrificed in the 1920s Dustbowl. I didn't want us all to end up at Bellevue Group Health's Urgent Care, so I took one for the team and put a bit into my mouth. Chew. Chew. Chew. "No! Don't swallow!" my brain screamed, so I ran for the sink and, well, you don't really need that much detail.
I turned off the oven and texted my husband that he might want to do a Carl's Jr. run when he picks up his new eyeglasses.
It's so god-damned pretty! I hate to throw it out, but obviously it won't keep well in my cooling oven. Curse you, pork shoulder blade roast, I counted on you! I picked you out of a half dozen others! I loved you! I scored your fatty bottom and rubbed precious fresh spices from my garden into your undeserving flesh! You never deserved my love! Go to hell, you bastard piece of crappy, Safeway meat. I will never put my lips to you again!
Wow. That was... cleansing - and a littel embarrassing. I feel so much better now. I was a bit crazy there for a second. This is between us - don't go bragging that you saw the Zzyzx Road Kitchen Lady lose it.
I promise, there will be corn and mixed-berry muffins for all tomorrow. I just need to go take a cold shower.
-Z
Alas, poor pork! I knew him, Horatio; a roast of infinite zest, of most excellent flavor; he hath baked on his rack a hundred minutes; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those tips that I have carved I know not how oft. Where be your meal now.
ReplyDeleteLet the record show, sir, that you are an ass.
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