So. I got this lovely new Crock-Pot from Crock-Pot because they were very worried I only had an old one that I wrote about a couple of months ago. Apparently they’ve changed a lot, and I was willing to test out the new advancements. The fact my skills haven’t advanced since Grade 7 home ec shall remain a secret. This new one is big enough to cook for probably 12, which means it’s perfect for the 4 of us. I only joke slightly; I like to make enough of whatever it is I’m making so there are some leftovers, but I’ve discovered a funny thing happens on the way to dinner. Wait. I’m getting ahead of myself.
The beauty of these things is that you can chuck everything in and leave the house. For a control freak like me, this means I chuck everything in and sit beside it. I trundled through the recipes on Crock-Pot.ca, and then some others. Food Network is good, too. I found out the entire world of culinary arts can take place in my Crock-Pot. Well, maybe not mine, but you know what I mean. There is absolutely nothing someone hasn’t tried to make in a Crock-Pot.
I knew I had chicken thighs, which I have to disguise because my sons are little elitists. Either that, or breast men. Anyway. I started checking for recipes that had the things I already had. This was yesterday, and soon after I got up, I realized you have to get this party started early; that’s the whole point. No way was I running out in my jamas to pick up anything when I know how good I am at improvising. Roz just coughed when she read that.
I found a recipe for chicken cacciatore, which we always called kitchen cacciatore when I was little. I reasoned this would probably be goof proof, and happily started chopping up the things the recipe called for. I’ve noticed all Crock-Pot recipes tell you to put a bunch of sliced onions in the bottom first., I guess to make a little rack for the meat. Actually, I’m sure if you’re making peach cobbler or something, you don’t put onions in first. Who are we kidding; I’m never going to make peach cobbler.
I hacked up the meat, tossed it in. I was supposed to combine a bunch of stuff in a bowl to pour over it. It said 2 cans of tomato paste. I miraculously had 2 cans. It said a bunch of different spices, but I read the side of the little pouch called ‘Italian Seasoning’ I have, and decided that this is an Italian dish, and that little pouch no doubt covered most of the bases. I dumped it in. Garlic (which I would have put in even if it wasn’t called for; I’d even put garlic in my non-existent peach cobbler), olive oil, salt and some stuff. It called for white wine, but since I drank all the white wine the night before, I used chicken broth (and put white wine on the shopping list).
It said you could put in red pepper flakes. I couldn’t find any, and I couldn’t remember if cayenne seasoning was red pepper flakes ground up, but I tossed some in anyway. It called for a diced green pepper, and I only had a yellow one. It was starting to get a little pinched looking, but I decided that is the magic of Crock-Pots: you can hide anything in there. I kid you not: preparing all this sounds like it took me hours, but it took ten minutes. Including adding wine to the shopping list. In it went. This snazzy Pot has settings and timings. I pushed buttons until it said ‘low for 8 hours’. Then I spent the next half an hour lifting the lid to see if it was on. It was.
Soon, the problems started. Ari came down two hours later. “Did you make soup? What smells so good?” He lifted the lid before I could stop him. I don’t think you’re supposed to lift the lid. From what I can figure out, a Crock-Pot is like a hot terrarium, and has to be left to do its business, uninterrupted. Instead, we were doing Crock-Pot, Interrupted.
I told him it was dinner. He nodded his assent and left. By 2 in the afternoon, both boys were hovering. It smelled great. It smelled done. I told them it wasn’t. I gave things a little poke. I’m not sure if you’re supposed to poke, but it occurred to me that most things that take time to do their thing move around, like a washing machine or a rock tumbler. I reckoned a little poke now and then couldn’t hurt.
The whole house smelled great. The fact that dinner was already taken care of was great for me, and a stunning revelation to the boys. The problem?
They ate dinner at 4:00.
Oh, and No Frills has whole chickens on sale. I am soooo going to buy one and throw it in this Crock-Pot. On a bed of onions.
I have a similar but bit older model than that. I cooked 20 lbs of pork over two days to feed the robot club dinner last Thursday. Once shredded, I had it full to the brim with pulled pork and not a shred was left after the kids had at it.
They are amazing. My only problem now is that the handle broke off the lid so I am left with a bolt sticking out the top, that the handle used to be attached to. It just disintegrated on me last week. Maybe that means I used it too much? No idea, but I’m heading to the ReUse centre to see if I can find a new lid for a lot less than a whole crock pot. Although the way it is, nobody lifts the lid to check what is going on inside!
There’s a recipe for crockpot corned beef and cabbage in the georgetown independant and free press by the cooking columnists lori and gerry …..
I never have wine for recipes either…or should that be neither? Regardless, it’s more enjoyable in a glass. Hic.
The whole pace sounds so frantic, are you sure that you’re the right person at the helm of a crockpot? Crockpots are called slow cookers. And when did the white wine really run out? Was there red wine? Actually, Shoppers Drug Mart had this great collection of recipe boxes on sale at Christmas. You know, Shoppers Drug Mart, where you can buy a computer or Nintendo DS, eyeshadow, a Dora hockey sweater or firelogs and…get this! Get a prescription filled! Anyway they had recipe collections….Philadelphia Cream Cheese (just who doesn’t like cheese cake or peach cobbler for that matter)…or Campbell’s soup recipes and of course, CROCKPOT RECIPES! I bought the crockpot/slow cooker recipes for my mom since she’s retired…it’s almost like an oxymoron? I need a new crockpot so what I really need is a blog! I’m so jealous Lorraine! By the way, some auto show is on Feb 10 at the International Centre and they’re bringing in Kyle Busch to sign autographs….(no driving tips thank God). Will you be there as some special participant? Will the G & M spring for such a luxury?
“At the helm of a crockpot.” HA!! That made me laugh, Dodge. It could have been an episode of Star Trek.
“She can’t take much more, Captain.”
I won’t be there. But I’ll be at the Toronto Auto show on Monday the 18th.
Does it work for other goodies? I mean, could you write a blog saying ‘I feel so incomplete without a good, rich man in my life’, and there would soon be knocks at your door and a dozen long stemmed roses arriving? Or maybe something less ambitious, like your Gucci boots are worn out or your famous (infamous?) red leather jacket has turned up its clogs.
I think you may be on to something here.
No man has ever been delivered. Boo.
Actually, I pretty much never take anything. They’re buying your praise, and it seems pretty compromised. Crock-Pot called me AFTER I mentioned them in a column, and I said there wouldn’t expressly be more columns, but that I would definitely use it. I made an exception.
However. Boots…..totally willing to be compromised.
I suppose you do have to be really circumspect. I’ve always wondered how restaurant or theatre/movie critics maintain their impartiality. Like Caesar’s wife, I guess, they must remain above suspicion. Must be tough, though, especially for an automotive writer, I would think.
I’ve written about it in the Star a couple years ago. Some go to the dark side. Too many. Ain’t worth it. I mean, I wouldn’t be in so much debt, but still. If I’m going to be bought, it’s not going to be by the auto industry.
It’s putting a price on your integrity. Some find that number easier than others….
And that’s why I liked you in the first place
If Crock Pot made boots I’d be calling The Rob Ford Centre for Conflict of Interest on you.
But they do – I actually have a pair of their Crocs
Can you imagine Croc boots? No, me neither. That’d just be a whole lot of ugly.
“Imagine” is my middle name
Crock pots rule. Cooking is about the only thing I can claim to be any good at; my crock pot makes me look like a genius.
Pot roast tonight. With gravy.
I think I’ll turn on the exhaust fan in the kitchen, just to make the neighbours salivate…
Don’t forget to take the little paper bag of chicken guts out of the chicken before you crockpot it.
Oh! Around here, whoever gets that makes a wish…
‘wish giblets’ – that’s a new one…
Or maybe ‘wish guts?’
I’m sure they do… like “I wish I didn’t get the bag of guts again.”
I have the world’s best chicken crockpot recipe. I call it “Chicken in red sauce.” Mostly because it consists of chicken and red sauce. Ketchup, brown sugar, lemon juice, lots of garlic puree, and worsceshtire sauce (I’m not even going to look that one up.) And you just throw about six dozen boneless skinless thighs in there, let ‘em simmer for 5 hours and then prepare for a party in your mouth.
Whenever we have the Chickens over, they ask for this now. They used to always want beef but the first time I tried it on them I told them it was alligator. They thought that was pretty funny. Chickens eating an alligator. But they went all Mavrick on me when they found out it was chicken. But it’s so good that’s what they ask for now (although they still ask for it as “Alligator in red sauce.”) Never misunderestimate the value of a good Crock Pot.
Ask Lorraine what they call boneless, skinless chicken thighs in her house.
Lorraine, what do they call boneless, skinless chicken thighs at your house?
One time the Poor Sod was BBQing them, and a friend of mine said “what are you BBQing?” and he said “squirrel”
Squirrels are called ‘cat food’ at my house.
Our 15 lb orange barn cat keeps the yard clear of them.
We always have dry food in the house for him, but he prefers to make his own meals in the yard….squirrels, birds, bunnies, mice….and he always brings us a little bit to show off what he has done, usually a tail, because he doens’t like to eat ass. (can I say that?)
He doesn’t like to eat ass ! I almost spewed jasmine tea all over my laptop !
I was watching Duck Dynasty and Miss Kay ( the mother ) was cooking squirrel and she exclaimed ” I just love fried squirrel brains i just can’t help myself . “
My kids are addicted to Duck Dynasty. They have all of them and watch them in marathons.
I am so proud. Sigh.
Ah, Duck Dynasty….it is brutal, and often on at my house too. I can only be thankful that it isn’t Honey Boo Boo. I saw 30 seconds of that once and wanted to poke my eyes out.
I was concerned that you might be attempting to embarass Lorraine but there was no mention of body parts so I can stand down.
You basically can’t embarrass me. I do it myself; there is pretty much nothing I won’t talk about. Which means I embarrass them…
Great post, has made me think I really need to dig out that crockpot I won in a curling bonspiel last year and use it. I find using it to cook for one (with limited freezer space) kind of a drag though.
Maybe you could give the big one as a gift to someone and pick up one of the little ones….they are sooooooo cute. Just the size for one ot two servings.
Miss a week, miss a lot.
I am so going to do BBQ’d Squirrel.