What about going blind? Could I go blind? I just splattered my right eye with packaged pig water as I was dumping it into the slow cooker. . . .
Just wondering. I’ll let you know.
Currently – my eye sight is fine. And no signs yet of illness.
As I’m glancing down at my abdomen now, to judge the normalness of it, I am also looking at my really bright orange shirt that’s almost red.
And I’m also wondering – does anyone else also avoid wearing red shirts when they shop at Target?
Because usually I do.
I don’t want to be mistaken for an employee.
Although I’m pretty sure no one would mistake me as such, when I have three or four kids trailing along behind me and my cart is packed to the hilt with things we absolutely-need-but-I-happened-to-forget until I was wandering through the store.
So I don’t think anyone would mistake me at that point.
However, on my second round through the store when I am putting everything back on the shelf, they might – at that moment – consider that I might be a stock person.
So anyway, usually I avoid wearing red at Target, and usually I try not to spritz my looking balls with pork juice.
Good advice, and good pork.
Here’s the scoop.
I have a Cuban Mima, who happens to be married to a Cuban Pipo, and he makes this rockin’ pork.
He is a pork artisan. He marinates it for hours, then slow roasts it in the oven – and there’s really nothing that can compare.
But me – well, sometimes I take shortcuts that can be disastrous (i.e. afore mentioned red clothing and raw pig juice) and sometimes they can be God-sends.
Disastrous: dinner from two nights ago that inspired comments like, “Let’s all agree to we’ll never serve anything that’s on this table again”.
Godsend: last night’s dinner that inspired comments like, “Mom, you went from zero (disaster dinner) to hero (tonight’s dinner) with this one!”
Godsend = Pipo’s pork in a slow cooker.
Pop it in there (wear some goggles). Season, and let it bubble away for hours.
Then fork-shred it, and serve it on rolls, tortillas, salad, pizza, all on its own – whatevs. . . it’s so good, it just doesn’t matter.
This is not Pipo’s exact recipe. I used a different cut of meat, different cooking method, but the same flavors.
Like I said, Pipo prefers to pamper his pork, and people come knocking for his recipe.
I, on the other hand, can be a lazy dinner-maker for six that prefers to slam pork tenderloin in the slow-cooker, flinging raw-meat juice in my eye. Then I like to walk away and let it cook on its own for a few hours, coming back to shred it just before we all turn ravenous.
I’ve suspected for a while now that I somehow gleaned a little Cuban blood in my veins – I am so fond of the regional flavor. Either that, or I’ve just affected the love of their cuisine by osmosis. Either way, my favorite way to eat this pork is on a Cuban roll with a squeeze of fresh lime juice – and had I had the forethought when I was shopping for the ingredients, I would have also bought a can of matchstick potatoes to sprinkle over the meat in the sandwich, because that’s how real Cubans do it.