Yesterday we went to town for water and groceries, and at the store I found a pound and a half hunk of pork that clawed at me through the bars and demanded I take it home.
I’m not the world’s greatest cook – or the world’s billionth-greatest cook – but roast pork is simple. And I got it almost perfect this time. My one failure was not stocking spare batteries for my meat thermometer; the inside could have been a bit more done but the bulk of it was falling apart at the touch of a fork and the crust and the spice rub was the best I’ve ever done. Tobie and I went through more than half last night. He did not refuse seconds.
A lovely and delicious early Christmas roast! Perfect! Now, if you can save the drippings, maybe you can make some Yorkshire pudding, if you have the eggs and milk, and I know you have the flour! Good for you! What a treat for the holiday season. Enjoy.
How many times has Tobie EVER refused second of roast meat?
Lucky dog!
I, for one, could stand to hear some more about the spice rub and what was in it.