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Hungarian Karma, probable laughter in NYC

01 Jul

I tested my cooking prowess on the grill all weekend.  Sahlens on the grill?  No sweat. While not a true Ted’s product I do manage to get a good char on, though my dogs don’t resemble something Freddy Krueger tested the sharpness of his knives on.

Saturday I stayed with a Buffalo feel and did Chivetta’s chicken.  It was OK.  I think I need to get the fire up to hot dog heat, though a larger area of it in order. The weather has not seen fit to cooperate.

You see I am still starting the fires at the entrance of the garage.  To passers by when I am checking the heat  I still look like I am praying one handed to a red metal statue but I can live with that. I have had to adjust my process though as I am now using some charcoal from a company called Cowboy Charcoal.  I am using a product that appears to be the burnt leavings of the lumber industry that had no other use.  It is literally charcoaled tree.

Lighter fluid is back in play and I have rolled the grill out of enclosure twice so far.  It was nowhere near starting an issue inside the garage, just as I like it.

The chicken was cooked, though the skin only got crispy on one thigh.  My daughter ate some (she continues to glacially increase her list of tolerable foods) which didn’t surprise me as this is her aunts chicken. My sister made Chivetta’s chicken once, she liked it therefore it is Aunt K’s.  Fine by me, she has yet to refuse to eat it.

We had some Johnsonville Brats for lunch on Sunday.  Somewhere deep in the area of my brain advertising targets an audio recording of Boomer Esiason was laughing.  You see on nights where I was multitasking on the computer I would often listen to Sunday Night Football, brought to you by Johnsonville Brats via Boomer.  I thought I hated him when he was a Jet… they were good though, as good as something that processed can be.

I took advantage of the lunch fire to cook some potatoes in foil.  They became my best representation of my Mom’s potato salad.  I think I was missing celery seed but otherwise hit the nail on the head.

I also marinated some portabello mushroom caps, red pepper and eggplant to make a veggie burger for dinner.  I hated it, my wife didn’t.  I can live with that but I also have no plans to revisit this dish for awhile.

Thankfully I also decided to do a stuffed Hungarian Pepper- salt, pepper.ricotta, beef,onion and raw red pepper stuffed inside a Hungarian Pepper.

The pepper is too hot for both my wife and I so the pepper itself was for light flavoring and as a cooking vessel. I made sure to clean out every seed and even pulled out all of the ribs inside, I was extremely thorough.

If only I were as thorough in washing my hands prior to going to the bathroom.  Oh yeah.  It hurt. It hurt bad.

Now I am not quite sure what my wife thought I was doing when I was running around the house in pain, but she was taking care of our almost eight month old son at the time and it was approaching his bed time.  He makes it quite clear when he is overtired.  I can’t imagine what reason she would believe I was running to get into a cold shower for and certainly she didn’t hear what I said happened, though I do remember saying something while breathing quick shallow breathes.

When she came down from putting boy to bed she came into the kitchen and I told her what had happened.  I am always happy to supply a good laugh, though I usually prefer it to not be at my expense, especially a painful one. So it goes.

Now my friend Balazs would sometimes jokingly boast about how great the Hungarian people are. I was always quick to say something that would either bury his point or just generally deride it.  Well I think the time has come to apologize to Balazs and the Hungarian people in general lest I suffer another moment like I did today. Insidious weapons those Hungarian peppers.

 

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Posted by on 07/01/2012 in Dirt

 

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