One night my father-in-law Mark was in charge of dinner: Dutch oven chicken and potatoes. He spent hours preparing the food, then protecting the Dutch ovens from the pouring rain. He was a proud, protective father ensuring that his family was fed with best food this side of the Mississippi. And it's a darn good thing that the dinner was going to be so good. Because everyone was STARVING. We all hung around the fire like vultures waiting for a scrap of food.
And finally the moment of truth arrived. His male sixth-sense told him that the Dutch oven chicken was done. The lids were pulled off and a gasp went through the crowd. There was no longer chicken in the Dutch oven. It was like asphalt. The "chicken" was blacker than the charcoal they cooked on. (Remember on National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation when Clark Griswold cuts open the turkey? Our scene was very similar.)
Mark was distraught. And instead of Dutch oven chicken and potatoes we ate........cereal.
Here is an actual picture of the
On Sunday night I learned how Mark felt. I prepared a delicious dinner of Hawaiian pulled pork and rice. Lots of people were coming over for dinner. As the food was being served, I realized that the rice was no longer rice. It looked more like a pot of wet newspaper. And it tasted worse than wet newspaper (not that I've eaten a New York Times before, I'm only assuming).
And the tender pulled pork? I guarantee that a Siamese cat would taste better than the meat I made. (Again, not that I've eaten a cat. Well, unless you count the local Chinese restaurant I went to.) My only regret about the meal I prepared is that we didn't pull out the Lucky Charms.