He’s At It Again.
I couldn’t help myself.
It was the idea of putting a beer can up a chicken’s bottom that more or less reduces me to something very immature.
It all started innocently enough about a week ago when my in-laws gave me this smoker-grill for my birthday. It’s wonderful. It’s short and stout, and rather on the uppity side when it comes to being dealt with by humans. I’ve named it R2-D2.
So there was, right under that dome, one whole chicken, propped up in a beer-can chicken pan sort of thing; carrots, and onions, and rosemary and a little sage surround it. Inside the center rested a can of Budweiser—half the contents removed (don’t ask) and filled back up with apple cider vinegar. And something else. I can’t remember. Let’s see…a little salt and pepper. I think that was it.
Put it on at 4:30.
6:30, not done.
7:00, not done.
7:30, still. not. done.
If you ask me, these smokers should come with a built-in microwave.
That was the case I started making while Cute Redhead and I discussed the whole thing and she, encouraging my wounded pride, whipped together some sandwiches from the pork tenderloin I (successfully) smoked the other day. The great thing about this smoker is the meal it renders. For those of you who already know, I can tell you nothing you don’t already appreciate. For those of you who don’t know: get one.
But only if you can live with discovering the side of you that has no concept of waiting patiently. Which I quite did, shocking nobody but myself.
So when Cute Redhead asked me at (this is wholly embarrassing) 9:15 how it turned out, my eyes popped out of my head like a cartoon and I ran out to the backyard, “Oh no! Now I totally forgot it was still out there! (swear, swear, swear).”
I think I have to work a bit harder at remembering to prepare the meat—focus, focus, focus—and put it on the smoker a lot earlier in the day so that I ca—
—hey look! Something shiny!
Who is the one that didn’t tell you that smoking something (food, not herbs) takes all damn day?
A smoker and a Todd Clary do. not. go. together.
Although, I like the idea of a microwave inside of there…that would be great. Imagine going to a smoker cook-off.
Gentlemen start your smokers….Annnndddd..GO.
DONE!