Redemption thru failure

The local paper lay on the front porch, inviting yet lazily.  I had begun to take a greater interest in the local publication when I found the advertising fliers that are included.  A very tranquilizing diversion that allows one to sit back in an easy chair and dream of things that they might do.

Right there, displayed in the depths of one of the local hardware fliers, an advert and picture of a roaster combined smoker.  I had always marvelled at the idea of smoked foods and here was my opportunity to accomplish that feast.  I immediately went and bought the smoker.

I returned home a short while later with two packages, one large and the other smaller.  The larger package was the smoker.  It was capable of cooking a twenty pound turkey and would need a shelving space cleared in the garage to facilitate storage of the box and its contents.  The second and smaller package was a five pound roast of beef of a less than medium grade.  I guess that I was happy with that although I had discussed the idea I had in mind with the butcher and somewhat had solicited his opinion.  We decided because it was my first time attempt I wouldn’t want to rack up a great expense if the experiment failed.

As usual the next day it rained and was cold, the smoke created by the cooker warranted that it be operated outside.  I needed a back up plan, I thought deeply.  Slow cooking seemed to be the advantage of the smoker, roaster; why not the oven?

The spice cupboard looked very bare with all of those containers on the counter top in front of me.  I searched high and low for the right spice for marinating the roast.  Was there something smoky, I tried steak rub, Montreal meat rub, fresh ground black pepper; I thought I might have to resort to pepper spray, anything to create a delicious and tender entree.  Next I seered the roast on all sides, in a frying pan, trying to lock the juices in, in tight.

Two and a half hours later, plus a fifteen minute of a wrapped resting period the entree was served.  Displayed on the plate along with roasted carrots and whole broiled onions, sided with butter topped mashed potatoes the meal appeared to be a marvel of creation.

Store bought teeth were not sharp enough to dent that block of steel, solid frozen rubber is more giving to the machinations of the average human jaw.  The stump of roast and sundry bits lay dead on the serving platter, while we savored a very flavorful vegan entree.  I have never felt such embarrassment.

The next morning bright and early the wife was out in the kitchen banging away with pots and pans.  By the time I arrived I realized that the slow cooker with all of its aromatic smells was well at work, inside was my ruined roast.  “…don’t worry I’ll fix it.”, she said, I think I recognized a faint glee in her eyes as she looked at me.

“It was supposed to be ALL SMOKE AND NO FIRE.”

Along about that magic hour, when tiredness of the days work suggests relaxation,I was summoned to dinner.  The kitchen was filled with powerful meaty smells and spices, hot and heavy on the air.  We sat in the dining room, plates filled with veggies and potatoes accompanied with slices of beef and flavorful gravy sauce.  It was tender and delicious.