Slapstick is only funny when it's a third degree burn

Yesterday I made out the week's menus. Tonight was to be pork chops and homemade apple sauce (Sunday is a meat day and I have some overripe Pink Lady apples). Unfortunately Trader Joe's did not have pork chops, so I bought a pork tenderloin. I normally don't buy tenderloin, because it is expensive and I rarely have a recipe in mind that does it justice. But it was the only pig available yesterday, so I bought one.

That is not the point of the post, though. I will post a recipe for my pork tenderloin pseudo cinghiale, but that will be later. Suffice to say that pork tenderloin pseudo cinghiale must be accompanied with roasted potatoes.

I bought a bag that had three varieties of potatoes: purple, red and gold. All waxy potatoes, small, perfect bombs of subterranean delight (OK, I admit that is hyperbole. I never have been a huge fan of potatoes - but then I married one of these Irish (well half Irish) and she eats the things like they are going out of style, which, in Adkins land, is probably true). But roasted potatoes with rosemary and garlic is a Tuscan delight, one of the few ways we will eat the things.

You start the potato chunks on the stove. Heat up some goose fat, toast three whole cloves of garlic, add your potatoes and some chopped fresh rosemary. Coat the potatoes and transfer to a 375 degree oven and turn when you remember until they are done.

The potatoes were done so I grabbed a potholder and opened the oven. About one inch of palm was not covered by the potholder. Said inch was part of the hand that was supporting the weight of a large cast iron skillet full of Irish love bombs. In recognition of this, said hand recoiled, dropping skillet full of Irish love bombs and getting tangled in 375 degree oven rack. Fortunately feet were in Pele mode and managed to avoid hot skillet and cascading Irish love bombs.

Fortunately feet were in such Pele mode that cook did not topple over on top of open oven rack with hot pizza stone and managed to untangle hand from 375 degree oven rack.

Fortunately the nature of third degree burns is that the nerve endings are quite amply singed so pain is not immediate. Cook then puts skillet on stove, gathers errant potatoes, then runs hand under cold, running water.

Playing back this movie in cook's head was quite funny, in spite of tears welling up due to excrutiating pain in hand. Bearded six footers mishandling skillets and dancing around hot cascade of potatoes with hand stuck in oven are inherently funny. I may be a cruel SOB, but I still think the sight is kind of funny. Even though my hand hurts.

Anyway, the dinner was great, if I do say so myself. The potatoes were finished on the stove with a sprinking of olive oil and sea salt.

However, that is not the recipe I am posting with this. Instead, let me offer you something medicinal.

If you have three regions of third degree burns on both sides of your hand and have to get dinner together because you simply cannot trust anyone else in the house to do it correctly, you will need something stronger than witch hazel, preferably in the potable category. Might I suggest a Venetian Martini?

Now, the true Venetian Martini, as served at Cesar's in Berkeley is gin, red vermouth, and Antico Formula. I do not have Antico Formula, so I use a dash of Cynar. It works fine. Perhaps I should call this a Pisano Martini.

Chill a martini glass with ice water.
In a shaker full of ice (ice feels great on recent third degree burns, by the way), add two shots of gin (preferably Beefeaters or one of the B gins - you want the kick of juniper and the 10 botanicals of Sapphire will get lost), a shot of red vermouth and a capful of Cynar. Shake until well chilled (use your hand with the third degree burns, as the icy shaker feels very nice). Pour the ice water out of the martini glass and add three twists of orange and a Fabbri or Toschi candied cherry with a little syrup. Strain the drink into the glass.

It tastes great, is a lovely aperativo, and helps you ignore the third degree burns.

With dinner, drink ample red wine and finish the meal with a shot of an after dinner drink. I guarantee that you will not feel the third degree burns. Well, you will, but they will not bother you nearly as much as they would otherwise. Just do not drink so much that you forget to drink a ton of water and forget to put some Aloe pulp or Aloe gel on the burns. And whatever you do, don't put a fluffy dressing on them. That will cause you immense grief in the morning. If you cook as much as I do, you know that from one bad experience.

Posted by erik at March 29, 2004 1:05 AM | TrackBack