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Thursday, September 29, 2011

Pressure Cookers and Men

Saturday, I spent time with fabulous conversationalists, gluttonously drinking and eating my way into a hangover and bigger dress size.  We were talking about all sorts of topics, from food to penises (strange how talking about one thing you put in your mouth leads to the other).  As we ate great food, we discussed recipes and cooking methods, and with cooler weather approaching we talked about stews and soups. 
I used to swear by my crock-pot, thinking it was the best thing since running water and indoor toilets.  The thing that made a crock-pot so incredible was the ability to throw all the ingredients together before leaving for work and returning home with the house smelling as though there was a gourmet chef in my kitchen preparing dinner for me (pretty pathetic, I know, but hey…I’m single).  However, there’ve always been two flaws with this method; [1] It requires advance planning and forethought (both of which I suck balls at), and [2] It must be done in the morning BEFORE work (and I’m like Godzilla in the mornings, only not as good looking).  However, in order to get the full blending of flavors and the desired textures of my soups and stews, the early morning sacrifice had to be made…until I discovered the pressure cooker.

A few years ago, I purchased a pressure cooker, and realized that I could cook in an hour what had previously taken all day.  My crock-pot has been collecting dust since.  So back to Saturday.  I’m discussing all this with my friends and explaining how incredibly awesome a pressure cooker is, when the only husband in the conversation starts telling a pressure cooker horror story.  He asks, “Have you ever seen a pressure cooker blow?”  He then shares a story about his mother using a pressure cooker which blew it’s top so forcefully, barely missing her head, that it put a hole in the ceiling.  To hear my non-pressure-cooking friends talk, I might as well be cooking with a time bomb which was bound to blow eventually, and take half my face when it did. 
After a couple similar stories about the dangers, and me bragging about how safe and reliable mine is, we ladies decided that pressure cookers are like men.  Most are safe, albeit a little exciting because you know they COULD be dangerous.  With a little care and attention they’re usually harmless, but occasionally you get one that flips its lid for no apparent reason.  Usually, however, one only flips its lid from major neglect or pure stupidity on the part of the operator (even the pressure cooker is telling the woman it’s her fault).  Finally, when they do blow, they can do serious damage and cause bodily harm.

So a couple days ago, craving some fresh boiled peanuts but having limited time in which to cook some, I break out the pressure cooker to once again work its magic.   When the release began its bobbing and the steam started whistling, I found myself thinking back to the weekend’s conversation and laughed aloud when I realized I’d now even given my pressure cooker nuts!

1 comment:

  1. I could not really tell where this story was going... and I laughed out loud at your ending. Bravo!!

    Molly @ The F-Spot