So, have you ever made dinner and then not really eaten it? Well, that's what I did the other night. This was one of the first nights in a long time that I was off and the Food Pimp was working. So I cooked dinner while I watched the exciting debate. But we were going to go for a few drinks, so I put it in the microwave. That's what my mom does if they are going to eat something a few hours later. So that's what I do too. Keep it in the danger zone....
So I walked to Hamilton's to meet my former boss. I waited alone and drank almost a whole beer by myself. I read the bar food menu, which sounded really good - and the food that I saw looked good too. Stuff like brats cooked in some microbrew beer and in house made pub chips and stuff. Then the boss showed up, then the FP. So they got a round. Then I think we got one or two more rounds. Then we left. Apparently, I was shitfaced. I guess on the walk home I kept saying how I was shitfaced. So we got home, and the FP heated up the food. I went to the bathroom and started throwing up. After 3 or 4 beers. I know I'm a lightweight now, but that was ridiculous. I mean, RE DICK YOU LUS!!!!!!! So then I went and laid on the cheap Pier 1 fold out couch that I got for free off craig's list. The FP was eating. He made me a tiny bowl of food, but I didn't want it. Didn't even touch it. So at some point, we went to bed. When I got up the next morning, I felt great. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, the flowers were blooming.
NOT!
I felt like big donkey poo poo. So I tried to recall the end of the night, but all I could remember was laying on/in the toilet barfing.
So in my defense...well, I can't really defend myself. Okay. Anyway, the explanation for my virtual intolerance of alcohol is that I just started jogging again a couple weeks ago. That morning, I went the farthest and fastest I had gone yet. I have this condition of a state of constant dehydration, so jogging makes it worse. I don't remember what we ate for lunch, but I think it was rice or noodles or something light, maybe by our standards. So yeah, I threw up.
The next morning, I found the little bowl of food left out. And you know what I did... I ate it. Oh yeah. I heated it up and I ate it. I nuked the shit out of it, but I know I still could have gotten sick. I mean I had already gotten sick, but I could have gotten sick in a different way. Anyway, I had that little bowl and maybe another little bowl, but that was it. I think that night there wasn't really much of it left. I didn't make that much, so you know. It was good though. I think the FP liked it.
Here's the recipe. For some reason Cajey McRedneck wanted to write it, so I let him. He's a cheap trailer trash knock off of Justin Wilson. I don't know how he found me. Must have been googling pork porn long dong silver or something. Hope you can translate it.
Disclaimer: This is not a comical piece.
Collahd Greens and Smoked Ham Hocks
1.5 # smoked ham hocks, boaey
1 oz coriander
1 T cumin
1 t cinnamon
1/2 t nutmeg
1 T black pepper
1 oz sesame earl - She ony used dis here earl because it were de ony earl in da house, veg earl or olive earl would probly be best, I reckin, cause dey got higher smoke points.
3 oz dem oriental chinky fish sauce
1 onion chop it up
3 cloves garlic smash it up
2 bunches collard greens (pronounced collahd greaens) rough chopped (like I dun ta dat squirrel in da road) and warshed, well, rinsed out (like I do my britches evy night). When I say warsh greens, you don run em through dat fancy dishwasha or anything like dat.)
1/2 c beer (da liquid o da gods)
1 c water (yuck)
So, season yer ham hocks with dem spices. Den heat yer oil in a big ole pan hot. Put dem puppies in yer big ole pot, and don touch for 3 minutes at least. Don even look at em. Chop yer onions or somethin. Den flip em and let em be fer 3 minutes mo. Den turn the heat way down. I reckin you jus might need a bit mo earl in the pan. Don worry bout addin mo fat ter it - lawdsake you cookin ham hocks! Add the onion and garlic and let it cook in there, but don't let it burn. Then trow in ya greaens and toss em around. Den add da beer and drink da rest. Pour in yor wata and dat chinky, I mean oriental sauce and cover it. Don wanna get em liberals all up in a latha over nuthin cause I said chinky. Oriental. Der. Looky how Politikly correkt I can be! Anyway, gettin back ta da respee. Let it go till yah mama wake up from her nap. Den you fin da salt in da top o da cabinet and go, I didn hafta use dat oriental fishy shit!
So I walked to Hamilton's to meet my former boss. I waited alone and drank almost a whole beer by myself. I read the bar food menu, which sounded really good - and the food that I saw looked good too. Stuff like brats cooked in some microbrew beer and in house made pub chips and stuff. Then the boss showed up, then the FP. So they got a round. Then I think we got one or two more rounds. Then we left. Apparently, I was shitfaced. I guess on the walk home I kept saying how I was shitfaced. So we got home, and the FP heated up the food. I went to the bathroom and started throwing up. After 3 or 4 beers. I know I'm a lightweight now, but that was ridiculous. I mean, RE DICK YOU LUS!!!!!!! So then I went and laid on the cheap Pier 1 fold out couch that I got for free off craig's list. The FP was eating. He made me a tiny bowl of food, but I didn't want it. Didn't even touch it. So at some point, we went to bed. When I got up the next morning, I felt great. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, the flowers were blooming.
NOT!
I felt like big donkey poo poo. So I tried to recall the end of the night, but all I could remember was laying on/in the toilet barfing.
So in my defense...well, I can't really defend myself. Okay. Anyway, the explanation for my virtual intolerance of alcohol is that I just started jogging again a couple weeks ago. That morning, I went the farthest and fastest I had gone yet. I have this condition of a state of constant dehydration, so jogging makes it worse. I don't remember what we ate for lunch, but I think it was rice or noodles or something light, maybe by our standards. So yeah, I threw up.
The next morning, I found the little bowl of food left out. And you know what I did... I ate it. Oh yeah. I heated it up and I ate it. I nuked the shit out of it, but I know I still could have gotten sick. I mean I had already gotten sick, but I could have gotten sick in a different way. Anyway, I had that little bowl and maybe another little bowl, but that was it. I think that night there wasn't really much of it left. I didn't make that much, so you know. It was good though. I think the FP liked it.
Here's the recipe. For some reason Cajey McRedneck wanted to write it, so I let him. He's a cheap trailer trash knock off of Justin Wilson. I don't know how he found me. Must have been googling pork porn long dong silver or something. Hope you can translate it.
Disclaimer: This is not a comical piece.
Collahd Greens and Smoked Ham Hocks
1.5 # smoked ham hocks, boaey
1 oz coriander
1 T cumin
1 t cinnamon
1/2 t nutmeg
1 T black pepper
1 oz sesame earl - She ony used dis here earl because it were de ony earl in da house, veg earl or olive earl would probly be best, I reckin, cause dey got higher smoke points.
3 oz dem oriental chinky fish sauce
1 onion chop it up
3 cloves garlic smash it up
2 bunches collard greens (pronounced collahd greaens) rough chopped (like I dun ta dat squirrel in da road) and warshed, well, rinsed out (like I do my britches evy night). When I say warsh greens, you don run em through dat fancy dishwasha or anything like dat.)
1/2 c beer (da liquid o da gods)
1 c water (yuck)
So, season yer ham hocks with dem spices. Den heat yer oil in a big ole pan hot. Put dem puppies in yer big ole pot, and don touch for 3 minutes at least. Don even look at em. Chop yer onions or somethin. Den flip em and let em be fer 3 minutes mo. Den turn the heat way down. I reckin you jus might need a bit mo earl in the pan. Don worry bout addin mo fat ter it - lawdsake you cookin ham hocks! Add the onion and garlic and let it cook in there, but don't let it burn. Then trow in ya greaens and toss em around. Den add da beer and drink da rest. Pour in yor wata and dat chinky, I mean oriental sauce and cover it. Don wanna get em liberals all up in a latha over nuthin cause I said chinky. Oriental. Der. Looky how Politikly correkt I can be! Anyway, gettin back ta da respee. Let it go till yah mama wake up from her nap. Den you fin da salt in da top o da cabinet and go, I didn hafta use dat oriental fishy shit!
Comments
-hope you're all done puking :)