To enhance your enjoyment of this post, first click this link to MMJ's version of Sir Elton's "Rocket Man".and press play...while listening, imagine Jim James is crooning "Crockit" instead of "Rocket". Thank you, readers.
I am a proud and recent owner of a shiny, stainless steel Crock Pot. You may remember this vestige of culinary days-past from hit meals such as "Grandma's Roast!" and "Mommy's Tired on Thursdays Casserole!". While the "Pot", as I like to call it, is traditionally used by haggard Matriarch's cooking for voracious packs of ungrateful leech-children, it also has a place in the single man's (or woman's) home. Here's why:
It's so friggin' easy a lobotomized actor playing the role of a caveman on a commercial for lizard insurance could do it. All you must do is take some ingredients (minor prep required), throw in Pot, set timer for anywhere from 4 to 8 hours, and let it be. When the time is up, the massive Pot unveils its magical trough-like qualities...feed for days.
I recently made some Turkey Chili. I set it up in the morning and when I came home that night, I swore that a pack of fat, large-belt-buckle-wearing Texans had infiltrated my apartment and set up their new testing lab...stirring their evil-delicious chili in my bathtub. A few days later, I made something from the recipe book called "Fiesta Chicken". I got so excited upon my first taste that I hysterically bitch-slapped one of the Mexican cocineros who had passed out on my couch. And for you vegetarians out there, I made a Chickpea-Lentil Curry that would've ended on-the-spot any one of Ghandhi's numerous hunger strikes.
(Are you still listening to the song? Imagine a grown man dancing with his Crock Pot. Are you choking up? Cry.)
What I'm trying to say is, if I can do it, you can do it. Get yourself a Crock Pot and fly off into the stratosphere of taste sensation.
May there be a chicken/roast/lentil in every Pot,
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