I’m not a ‘trendy’ guy. I gravitate toward things with a story, tradition and history. Flash-in-the-pan fads and ‘gotta have it’ items don’t generally excite me.
Every single ‘boy band’ ever. Beanie Babies. Pauly Shore. Comic sans. Popped collars. Farmville. Zubaz. Soul patches. ‘Talk to the hand.’ Tribal tattoos. Practicing Feng Shui. Live Strong bracelets. Furby. Chia pets. The ‘Flock of Seagulls’ hairdo. Monday Night Raw. Wearing duct tape as a fashion accessory.
Each one has come and gone. So, I come to you today with a request to appreciate the small, reliable things in your every day life. Like, your crock pot.
There is no other piece of kitchen equipment creates masterpieces with such ease. Your blender? Nope. Still gotta hit a button, check for consistency, and then scrape out all the blended goop to be used in some other creation. Your oven? No. They’ve been known to be accidentally left on and then burn folks’ houses down. That’s no fun. Your spatula? No go. With some items (I’m looking at you omelet) you’ve got to be almost ninja-like to make the perfect breakfast entree. Otherwise those lava hot ham chunks come flying out causing potential bodily harm to your loved ones.
The humble crock pot crushes each of these in the culinary championships.
One, Ronco might have trademarked this phrase, but ‘the crock’ is truly the only kitchen tool where you can ‘set it and forget it!’ You can put that thing on low and set it to cook for 39 hours. No problem. ‘The crock’ is in control.
Two, a hunk of a weird sounding meat like a ‘butt,’ a ‘shoulder’ or a ‘chuck’ becomes a flavor bomb of deliciousness that you can gnaw on for several days. Then, you instantly forget that this thing you’re devouring used to be an animal’s rear end.
Three, any vegetable you throw into the mix will automatically be infused with delectable meat juice. Dear mushroom, I love you. But, I’m leaving you for your sister – mushroom injected with irresistible pork goodness. Signed, The World.
Four, when you get home from wherever you’ve been – work, pool, inflatable balloon animal making practice – your house/apartment/condo/shanty smells AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHmazing. It makes you feel like Julia Child has broken into your home and commandeered your kitchen. And, you’re more than OK with that.
As I get ready to dive headlong into this Lurong Challenge I take solace in the fact that unlike my body’s constant desire to quickly destroy a back pack full of french fries, my ‘simple’ crock pot won’t let me down. Now, go hug your new old favorite kitchen appliance.
Fat Guy In A Little Coat