The Buffy

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My life is pretty dull. I play with a toddler, watch a lot of Yo Gabba Gabba and experiment with the crock pot. I have no bed time and I find humor in Laffy Taffy jokes. Conan O'Brien is my anti-drug.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Pork Roast is not the Devil

Of my three lovely and talented sisters-in-law, one is the Martha Stewart of all things domestic, one's idea of cooking is to drive through at McDonalds and add her own salt to her fries, and the third aspires to fall somewhere in between. As I've been on a slow-cooker kick lately I've been encouraging my young family member to dabble with the great ceramic beast.
"I don't know how much water to add!" No one does, unless you're following a recipe. Just experiment.
"I don't want to overcook anything!" I promise you, for the majority of meats and soups... the longer it cooks, the better.

Today is a grim, damp day in Southeastern Wisconsin, and it's prime slow-cooker weather.

 I picked up a pork roast at the store a few days ago, and now is the time to show my beloved sister-in-law just how easy it is to have a comfort meal waiting for you at dinner-time.

In goes the roast, about a cup of water and some powdered chicken broth.

I dumped a bunch of garlic pepper on top, and after discovering chopped green onions in the fridge from Monday's dinner, in went those as well.


Carrots and garlic, check.
And finally, some red potatoes. I ground some pepper on top of the potatoes and threw on the lid. BLAMMO. What is there to fear?!
I'll be seeing this pork again in about 7 hours from now. And when I say that I'll be seeing it, I mean my stomach will be seeing it. NOM NOM NOM!

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