March 6, 2012

The Blueberry Pig Meal

My wife is a good cook.  She won't admit it, in fact, she'll down right deny it.  I try to convince her, but no matter what I say, she still doesn't think she is a good cook.
This hot dame is not Shannon.

I am a simple man, not like Forrest Gump (I would never again dare to slander such a holy figure as Saint Gump.  I have learned my lesson Gump-lovers.)  By simple I mean, I am just a meat and potatoes kinda guy.  You don't need to use rare herbs to get me to like a dish.  I can enjoy the exotic dishes, but given the choice between a Fleming's steak or a Casu Marzu with Kopi Luwak coffee, I will take the steak any day.

Now, Shannon doesn't try to fancy our meals up too much.  For one, she simply doesn't have the time.  Plus, in our family if she dresses it up too nice - we won't appreciate it.  My son and I attack the food, like it is trying to get away.  I swear, that sometimes, he literally wrestles the food.  She also has many hurdles to overcome, as well.  Our daughter, who just turned five, is a strict vegetarian.  Our son, doesn't like anything, until he tries it.  Me, I'll try some foreign exchange meal - but I would usually just prefer gnawing on some pizza.

Now, giving my wife more props, she is also trying to keep us healthy.  I approve, however, the word on the street is that pizza isn't a "healthy" food.  Sure, she has found that happy medium. Pizza once in awhile, but most of the time she cooks.

Now, my wife grew up without a mother.  She was raised by her father and I must say, he did a pretty darn good job too.  We don't see eye to eye on a lot of issues, but when it comes to Shannon, we both think she is pretty neat.  He worked a lot of hours and he was no gourmet chef in the kitchen.  So, when she got older she had to teach herself how to cook.  So, while she was learning to cook - her father and I became sort of her guinea pigs.

She found a recipe for pork chops.  She knew that I have an affection for blueberries and found a recipe that combined the pork chop with the blueberry.  Now, I am not a big pork chop eater.  In fact, the last time that I can remember having a pork chop, I was dating her.  (I have been married for over 12 years now.)  So, pork chops and me - we ain't tight.  I love other pig products.  (Sorry my veggie friends.)
I love bacon.
I love ham.
I love bacon, again.

But, she made a dish that was out of this world.  Not good, out of this world.  More like, trippy...

Her father and I sat and waited for the meal; hungry.  Because that is another thing we have always had in common - food.  Shannon's shy little voice came from her kitchen.  "Um, maybe we should just order out," she said.
"Nonsense," her father and I responded.  "Bring us our meals."
I don't think this is exactly how the story was a long time ago, and I tend to over exaggerate.
"I don't think you'll want to eat it."
"We'll eat anything," we bragged.
"Dagnabbit, woman.  We IS hungry!"
These sexy beasts are not Shannon's dad and me.

That is when we saw them.  The pork chops still sitting in their dish.  They were purple, just like pork chops are suppose to be.  Purple?  Purple Pork Chops.  The blueberries had turned the pork chops the shade of the Joker's coat.  (His coat was case, you didn't pick up on that.)
And I am not positive, but I think she was serving us Barney.
He did go missing sometime around then.
Well, needless to say, we tried those purple pork chops.  They were also a little rubbery too.  It kinda felt like chewing on a dog's toy.  They were awful.  Just down right horrible.  But, we always laugh about her purple pork chops.

Pretty positive that Shannon put these in there.  
Now, when she cooks, 98% of the time it is awesome.  She does a killer job, and I love having a wife that cooks.  It is rare thing nowadays.  So, I am thankful and blessed.  However, there still are those 2% where I have to go to Philly's Phatties and get a cheesesteak.

Eater of the Purple Pork Chop,