The only (and I do mean ONLY) good thing about the frigid Boston temps we’re currently experiencing (yep, it’s 1 degree outside right now- 1 little itty bitty degree) is that it gives me a good excuse to make nothing but soup and crock pot dinners. The other night I made this Moroccan Chicken and Butternut Squash Soup that even my son liked. He normally will only eat soup if you “take out all the water.” My daughter likes to point out that the “water” is what makes it soup, but he doesn’t care. He likes his soup dry. But anyway… this one was a hit because the cous cous soaks up most of the broth and makes it more like a stew. Easy and tasty to all… my kind of meal.
Today I’m making pulled pork because we’re having some friends over for dinner and I didn’t feel like making a real meal for them. The thought of throwing a hunk of meat into the crock pot at 7:00 am and forgetting it until they arrive tonight is very appealing. I am a lazy hostess. Plus, my husband and kids LOVE pulled pork, so I’ll get some brownie points for making a favorite.
The only drawback to this plan was that I had to go to the butcher and order my meat. I’ve learned from experience that using butt meat is really the best cut for pulled pork. It’s all marbled with fat, which normally would preclude me from buying it- I do TRY to be healthy…but it’s soooo freaking gooooood. But I do have a problem ordering it. I can’t say “can I please have two pounds of pork butt” with a straight face. It sounds gross and it makes me laugh. I think the butcher gets it because he smirked at me before he went to cut it and I swear he said “enjoy” with a just a hint of irony when he handed it to me.
I made the mistake of telling my kids about this encounter. Will I never learn that you cannot say the words butt, poop, pee or anything remotely related to the toilet without having to hear about it for the next few hours? All through dinner last night my youngest kept chanting “pork butt, pork butt, pork butt.” I’m sure the patons at the restaurant we were at thought it was a charming backdrop to their own dinner conversations. And my daughter was horrified that we will be serving butt for dinner. She’s embarrassed by everything these days. Oh well…hopefully they’ll forget about it before everyone comes over tonight. It’s bad enough I invited them over and then decided to put as little effort as possible into feeding them. No need to tell our friends that they’re eating butt.