Annual birthday celebrations for myself and Cecilie (and any other Marchies).
I’m doing something with a pork loin. It involves slow heat. Turns out my oven seems to keep consistent down to about 125f. We’ll see how I do. Something something pomegranate.
You bringin’ sumpin?
Ok. I split the loin lengthwise, poured in some pomegranate and cane molasses, dashed it with salt and smoked paprika, and trussed it up. I’ll leave it like that in the fridge over night and put it in the oven around ten or eleven in the morning. I’m guessing eight hours at 150f should be about right?
Folks are asking me about bringing things. I am making pork loin (very slowly). I have crackers and sliced cheese. I have pistachios. I have two growlers of beer and a bottle of prosecco. Tom Shehan is bringing ice and Harry O is in charge of cake. Oh, and Treasa is getting some pie. I guess don’t bring any of those things. Bring something different. Or just bring yourself.
I realize I haven’t been my usual enthusiastic intrusive self about my upcoming birthday party. I apologize. Come and I’ll talk about how awesome it will be.
This little piggie is in the oven. Brought his friends (dried and crushed mushrooms) for company. And a bunch of wine. For swimming. The mushrooms are swimming. Not the pig. Otherwise I would have started this with “this little piggie went swimming”. The pig is more like the lifeguard. A lifeguard fascinated by watching his mushroom friends drown in wine. Pigs make real dick lifeguards.
Fun party, everyone. Thanks to all who came and to those who brought food and presents. The cake was terrific. Can’t wait to play this new game and use my salt brick. More good times ahead.