Day 7: Burning the Oats

The Month of Pork has thrown me off my morning breakfast routine which typically consists of plain yogurt, granola and fruit.  As creative as I might be, I just don’t see any room for pork in that combination.  Clearly, I’m not going to be a winner on “Chopped”, but I hate that show anyway.  It’s a good thing that I’m fairly liberal when it comes to breakfast.  As far as I’m concerned, there’s no such thing a “breakfast food”; “breakfast food” is just what you happen to eat at breakfast.

This morning’s breakfast was another version of savoury oats with some of the rib roast and vegetables from last night.  But time was tight and I couldn’t spare 25 minutes to stand in the kitchen watching over the oats as they cooked, so I started them off, set them on low and hoped for the best as I went upstairs to shower.  I emerged from the shower to a faint nutty smell…my oats were burning.  Even set on low, the large burner on my stove was putting out too much heat and the water had boiled off too fast.  But there was enough on top to salvage a meal and it tasted really good.  I’ll use the small burner next time.

The oats container has microwave instructions…but I can’t bring myself to do it.  Cooking in the microwave (defined as heating anything for longer than 5 minutes) has always been revolting to me.  It inspires images of unloved children and food loser adults eating hot pockets and frozen dinners.  One co-worker (who was pregnant at the time) told me that she preferred eating frozen dinners because they allowed her to keep track of her calories and nutrients….insert groaning sound.

Lunch took place during another working session.  I would have felt bad bringing leftovers and clanging around with a knife and fork, so I hit the local Szechuan Szechuan for some honey pork with shanghai noodles.  Like a spoiled child, I ate the pork and hardly touched the noodles.  During my the meeting I noticed some co-workers eyeing my food; not a word was said, but once again I could see that they were clearly yearning for pork and not for pizza

Dinner was going to be difficult.  I was scheduled to have dinner with a friend; and although he was adamant that pork wasn’t a requirement, I stayed true to the cause and refused to eat any other type of meat.  We finally ended up at Beer Bistro (our third watering hole of the night) to have dinner.  Our late evening meal consisted of a lobster quesadilla for him, a pulled pork sandwich for me.  In fact, my sandwich was so good that even my kosher friend had to have a bite.  He reluctantly admitted that it was fantastic…f’ing fantastic.