Discount at your own risk

Large packages of discounted  meat should come with a warning label:  Do not attempt to cut unless professionally trained.

 I purchased a large piece of pork at a huge discount.  I have to admit I spent several minute handling it, feeling the bones and wondering how on Earth I was going to cut it once it was in my kitchen.  For a few seconds, I almost didn’t buy it, but it was such a good bargain, it couldn’t be overlooked.  I tossed  it my cart.

I hurried home, wanting to get it in the roaster to have ready by dinner time.  Cleaning the counter, I gathered the necessary tools: big knife, chopping board, paper towels,a priest and band-aids. I hesitated a moment thinking I could wake my sleeping teenage son for help, but knowing he had been up all night with friends for a Horror – movie- marathon, I took pity and let him sleep. Stealthy, I turned around and grabbed the package of pork by the tail and slung it on the counter. 

The package was bigger than the chopping board.  This wasn’t going to be easy, especially for someone who makes huge mistakes in the kitchen.  After cutting open the package, it began to leak, running down the cabinets. Mess number one was underway.  Luckily, the dog was there to help with this cleanup.

Where to cut first?  I told myself to be brave and just dive in. No testing to the water to see if it was safe, just get it over with already.  I felt my way through the first half somehow, tossing each piece into the roaster as I went.  The dog watched my every move; she figured if I was so sloppy at the start it was surely a good sign for her.  

Thinking I was successful, I reached a crossroads where there seemed to be bones going in every direction.  “Oh now I see why it was discounted!”  Instead of slicing my way through the meat as I done previously I now hacked at it.  I thought the knife was going break or I was going to lose a finger.  The chopping board banged on the counter with every pound of the knife. 

I looked down at the dog.  She looked up at me, collie ears at full attention waiting for pieces of pork to fly in her direction.  The pounding had also awakened both cats who were now sitting in the kitchen doorway.   They yawned sleepily “Did someone say Pork?”    I just shook my head at them , told the dog to “get the kitties” and went back to the chore.

I finished chopping, hacking  and slicing my way through the remaining discount and secured  it in the roaster.  It should be properly burned, err, cooked in 3 hours.  As for my fingers, I still have all nine of them:  just counted them.  Did you also know I wasn’t very good at math ?

Peace.

NEPB