Thursday, January 20, 2005

The matter of the meat

A couple of Saturdays ago when BK and I were both at home waiting for the new furniture to be delivered, there was a knock on the door. I was in the middle of vacuuming, so BK answered the door and I only turned off the vacuum cleaner long enough to ascertain that it was a salesperson. Assuming BK would quickly deal with whoever it was, I kept vacuuming.

Imagine my surprise when I turned off the vacuum cleaner ten minutes later and found BK in the dining room with the salesman, examining boxes of MEAT. Apparently this man goes door to door selling MEAT. And instead of telling him politely that we are not interested in his wide array of MEAT PRODUCTS, BK invited the man into our home where he proceeded to launch into his spiel of Why You Need To Have a Freezer Stocked Full of Beef At All Times.

Well, friends and neighbors, not only did BK invite the Meat Man into our home, he also purchased steaks from him. So many steaks that we had to take them out of the decorative packaging (because as we all know that is a sign of a quality meat product) and stuff them into the freezer individually. BK's reasoning for buying Scores of Steaks was, "Well, sometimes I want a steak but they're expensive." Riiiiiight. So we remedy the expense by blowing an entire month's pay on MEAT?

That night we settled down to have us a good, old-fashioned meat-and-potatoes kind of meal. I made some AWESOME mashed potatoes with the KitchenAid mixer (oh how I love thee, KitchenAid mixer, let me count the ways) which may or may not have involved copious amounts of butter. There was a green thing which escapes my memory since the green things often do, unless they are drenched with a sauce involving the aforementioned butter. And there were the newly aquired steaks, prepared by BK.

After gorging myself with mashed potatoes for a few minutes, I cut myself a piece of steak and popped it in my mouth. I chewed. I chewed some more. And then I opened my mouth and let the "steak" fall back on the plate, because I'll be DAMNED if I was going to eat something that disgusting.

You know that episode of Friends where Monica gets hired to create recipies using Mochlate? It's like that.

MOCHLATE:CHOCOLATE::DOOR-TO-DOOR SALESMAN STEAK:REAL MEAT

Dudes, this steak was so bad and rubbery that I couldn't even eat it after dousing it with A1. AND THAT'S BAD.

On the bright side, everyone I know will be receiving a homemade Mixed Meat Gift Basket for Christmas this year!

2 Comments:

Blogger Uriel da Costa said...

In law school -- second year of Contracts, if memory serves -- you spend what seems like weeks studying cases involving door-to-door meat salesmen.

That the meat wasn't green puts you a step ahead of most of the litigants in those cases.

January 21, 2005 at 6:50 AM  
Blogger Sarachkah said...

kitchengrl and her hubby just bought a huge freestanding freezer for the express purpose of storing large quantities of meat. But their standards are fairly high, so I doubt you can pawn your bad meat off on them.

However, just think--you could have it worse. My mom converted to Mormonism after letting in a door-to-door Mormon salesman (known in some circles as a "missionary") and inviting him into her dining room. I'd say you got off lucky that BK only ended up with some bad meat instead of a deeply flawed, hypocritical, sexist, and insane religious idealogy.

January 21, 2005 at 8:49 AM  

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