Last year I received a crockpot—which I was told was a fitting gift to a crackpot—so that I might avoid nuking everything and perhaps eat from without the can on occasion.
In April, when Mescaline Franklin was in town to finish Hemavore, we needed some man food as our vary-scarred minds collided in the [what is this experimental construct that you people think has a purpose?—sorry, getting off subject—man food…]
Suffice it to say that this is a small crockpot, that fits on top of my microwave, next to my coffee/tea pot, which sits atop my little refrigerator, an arm’s reach from here—and I have no idea how I gained weight writing…The Liver-Eater would not approve as a hoodrat head—even a small one—would just not fit in this pot.
-Dump a 12 ounce bag of diced frozen onion in the pot with a few cloves of garlic. Do not forget to take the frozen onions and meat out of your backpack. You have already been on the bus for an hour and half genius—really, this can get nasty if you forget about it.
-Take one pound of ground pork or ground beef and put it on top of the onions.
-Cover with seasoning. I like Jamaican dry jerk herbs with smoked paprika.
-Turn it on high.
-After you can smell it, stir it up with your roommate’s wooden soup spoon.
-After the room starts to smell a lot and you can’t tell the meat from the vegetables when you stir, then notice how the grease separates, figure out how much chili powder it’s going to take to soak that grease up—like when you put cat litter on motor oil—and dump that in and stir.
-Turn the pot down on low.
-When it starts to smell like something your mother would have yelled at your father for cooking, then look see. If there is any grease still floating, get out the stale taco shells that Babelicious Capri donated for your nutritious taco meal that never happened, or the Doritos that Shaynequa was munching on when she interrupted your taco meal prep-work and crush these suckers up and mix in. The grease will not survive.
-Crack open a can of beer and enjoy.
White Nationalist Culinary Endorsement
Mescaline said, while spooning chili from my coffee cup, “This is good, man—fucking food, Bro.”
I stand validated as a chef.
