Last week, it was all about buy local, shop local, something that really should forever remain in the forefront of our minds. But this week’s column is an update on what’s happening, and what isn’t, around the Corcoran home.
As of typing this, I have not fired up the Big Green Egg since before Christmas. Call it mental health, or no longer being interested in heading outside in the chill, whatever. This past weekend, I should have fired it up, but there were other events taking place.
I do “blame” much of me not barbecuing on my wife, Mary Beth, who has upped her culinary game over the past year.
She has always been a great cook, but with an InstaPot on hand, she’s taken things to new heights. There are meals, including pulled pork, which we’d normally handle by smoking in the Egg, that now take place in the InstaPot, at least until the weather stays a little warmer.
But fear not, the Egg will get its usual three-season workout starting in the very near future! With this week’s weather, I may have already barbecued on it by the time you are reading this.
In the meantime, I’m thinking we should start sharing some of our (her) recipes with readers. The most recent one was a Mexican pot roast. Beef, in plenty of spices, with rice, and served with sliced jalapenos, chopped cilantro, with salsa and sour cream poured over top. Yeah, it was delicious.
From food to feline news, some readers have inquired about our cat, Finn. The big guy is still his oddball self.
We’ve placed a nice circular, upright table near the living room window, with the idea of putting a plant on it. Before we finalized that plan, Finn showed the folly in that notion.
He’s taken to making a running jump onto the table when he wants to look outside. A plant would have been scattered with such activity. It’s his table now, and he lounges on it, even though it’s a little too small for his long body.
Then again, he’s lounging on everything. Finn has a knack for finding different spots almost daily. He’ll switch from bed to bed, or slip into the basement and sleep in a pile of laundry, on a chair under the bistro table by the bar, in my recliner or office chair. In those latter cases, it is almost as if he knows where I plan on sitting. That’s also true on the love seat upstairs, where he’ll invariably be ensconced beside my wife when I want to sit there.
And Finn has the ability to turn into a jellyfish when you want to move him. He’ll relax every muscle in his body to make it difficult to scoop him up.
His happiest time, however, is when you sit outside and he comes with you. He’ll roll around on the patio at your feet, just happy for outdoor company.
It’s funny, because at night, he has his share of outdoor company in the form of other cats. On a recent evening (pre-Red Zone), one of our daughter’s friends stopped by. She spotted what she thought was a familiar tabby waiting in the driveway, and she bent down to pet him, but the cat didn’t seem all that happy to see her. And then Finn strolled up beside the other to say hello. He was happy to receive the attention.
