June 11, 2007

So good.

Itís been a long time since Iíve burdened my readers with a problem of mine, but folksÖ I just need to talk about this. Iím a pretty laid back kind of guy. I tend to go with the flow, instead of making waves. And I donít obsess over things.* However, of late, Iíve found myself continually obsessing over something.

Bar-B-Que. Yes, I know I have it bad when I want to come home after a long days work and spend 4 hours slow cooking meat over a smoky fire in 87 degree heat. Iíve been bar-b-queing chicken, pork, beef and other assorted meats. Today Ktreva told me she was going to hit the grocery store after work, she wanted to know if there was anything special I wanted her to pick up. Oh god yes, all I wanted was some kind of sausage link or ring. It needed to be slow smoked then slathered in the tangy sauce of the cooking gods. I told her anything other then Bratwursts and Iíll be happy.

I come home and sheís picked up some ďspicy stadium sausagesĒ. Well they were bratwursts, but itís okay. Iíll make do with what I had. After getting the fires stoked, I threw my secret smoking packs onto the heat and let them get nice and hot. A thick smoke covered the neighborhood. Neighbors were coming out of their houses to investigate what the tantalizing scent wasÖ then realized it was me, ran back inside and bolted their doors. Well, except the neighbor guy I actually like. He made a play for the contents of the packs again.

From 4 until 7:00PM I slow cooked those sausagesÖ and just when the smell was about to drive me mad. I gently coated each link with the sauce. For the last couple of minutes the sauce cooked on as a second skin sealing in the wonderful flavor. The sausages were pulled off the heat. Unbeknownst to me, Ktreva had gotten her hands on my motherís secret potato salad recipe. For those of you that have head it, itís the original recipe, not the lower fat, calorie one. Ktreva, my darling temptress of the bar-b-que side dish had secretly made my favorite of all side dishes.

Folks, let me tell you. Right now Iím in pure heaven. Unfortunately the sausages Ktreva bought were too spicy for her and the boy, but they were perfect for me. Great flavor and oh so delicious, just the way a good bar-b-que sausage should be. Mixed with the potato salad of the godsÖ this was a meal to make any man happy.

And yet I sit here wanting. Not more food, cause Iím like an over stuffed tick right now. No, Iím wanting more meat to bar-b-que, to smoke, to grill. I canít get it out of my mind. The urge, the desireÖ the NEED. Iím already planning on slow cooking a beef brisket this Sunday. Iím thinking of a special homemade rub that I make to pre-season it. Then as soon as itís done, I know Iíll be planning the next meat.

Iím like a machine, I just canít stop. And a lot of this meat is going to waste. As we canít eat it all and Iím continually making more. Itís going to be a long bar-b-que filled summer. To make matters worse, weíre driving through Kansas City (Hell Hole of the US), one of the four bar-b-que capitols. I may just drown in sauce yet.

*(Scotch, Beer, the female form, re-enacting, Listerine Pocket Paks and zombies are excluded from this statement)

Posted by Contagion in Stories about me. at June 11, 2007 07:08 PM | TrackBack
Comments

Yumm. Not b-b-q'in here unless we have a hurricane... I sweat just walking out the door.

Posted by: vw bug at June 12, 2007 02:05 PM

Sounds like good cooking to me!!

Posted by: Richmond at June 13, 2007 03:02 PM