Here's why yesterday was awesome.
- I got to read "The Invalid's Story" with the ninth graders and The Crucible with the eleventh graders. I really like both of those works, and they're just racy enough to keep the kids interested (dead body smell and dirty Puritan affairs always keep me engaged, too).
- I was crazy productive at school, so I get to go into the weekend with nary a care. (Except for the pile of laundry that's taunting me and the tumbleweeds of Mitch fur that are surrounding me and the nagging knowledge that I've fallen really behind on watching The Real Housewives of D.C.)
- Our landlord told me to deduct the cost of the kitchen makeover materials from the rent (that was actually a few days back, but I'd forgotten to share it here), so that beautiful and happy kitchen was free! Horray!
- I ate a doughnut. (And not some crappy doughnut, either. It was from Baker's Pride. Yeah, Baker's Pride is no Back in the Day Bakery, but they make a hell of a doughnut.)
- My pants felt a little loose. (That could be because I haven't washed them, or it could be because I've lost weight. Who knows. Eating the doughnut, then, was probably not the best course of action.)
- I was running errands around school during my planning period (remember, super productive), and my last errand was to pick up a case of paper and carry it back to my classroom. Now, normally such a task would be a piece of cake for me (I'm freakishly strong), but today it was painful. It was painful because I injured my pinky toe (big gross blood blister that may or may not have exploded) on a cart at Kroger over the weekend, and today I made a poor footwear choice. Each little step was excruciating, and here I was walking across our super spread out campus with a 50 lb. box of paper on my shoulder. After I'd gone only a short distance and managed to get to the front of the school, I saw a Staples delivery guy leaving the school. Now, I had way too much pride to ask for help, and I had way too much pride yesterday morning to even act like I needed help (you know, by struggling in that girlish way girls do when they want someone to help them or to talk to them). But the Staples guy, as soon as he realized that it was a full box of paper and not an empty box, insisted on carrying it for me. I don't really believe in angels, but if angels are real, this guy is one. I and my toes both thanked him. (Did that just sound like I only have two toes?) Really, we did. I wrote to Staples as soon as I recovered from the walk to gush about how kind he was.
- I haven't been to Target in almost a week. What's awesome about this is that I've been exercising self-control. But I think I'll go today. Self-control is overrated.
- I had to go downtown after school to get this stupid bar card thing so that I can serve alcohol in the City of Savannah (decidedly NOT awesome), but I did get a parking spot directly in front of the building. And I didn't even have to parallel park! (Which I am, by the way, pretty good at doing. I'm in the 80th percentile of parallel parkers. It's because I'm good at shapes.)
- And, finally. Yesterday was awesome because we ate Boston Butt for dinner. Mmmmmm. I adapted the recipe from Cook's Illustrated. I say "adapted" because I am, apparently, completely incapable of following directions. Like, when Matt read that it said "be careful not to cut into the meat," he looked over at me only to see me stabbing the whole shoulder with a long knife. And when it said "cook at 325" I somehow decided that the recipe meant to cook at 300. So, anyway, this is an "adapted" recipe, not because I'm better or more innovative, but because I don't know how to read.
Next, put your butt on your fanciest plate (I believe that these were 4/$1 at Target a few years back) and rub the rub all over it.
Wrap your butt in saran wrap and put in the refrigerator overnight.
Here's what it'll look like the next day. Bake on a makeshift baking rack (or a roasting pan if you have one. I don't for some reason, so I improvised with a baking rack in a Pyrex dish.) at 300 for seven hours. In the meantime, take a long nap.
Try to resist picking the delicious meat off before taking the "after" picture. Clearly, we failed at this step.
Give the big bone to the cutest dog on the planet.**
Talk to him and assuage his fears that neighborhood dogs or other creatures are after his bone.
And then. . .enjoy your tasty sandwich. We ate ours with some BBQ sauce, but it'd be really good without the sauce, too.
Ingredients
1 big ol' bone-in Boston Butt (a.k.a. pork shoulder)
1/3 cup kosher salt
1/3 cup of light brown sugar
1 tablespoon black pepper
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon oregano
1 tablespoon crushed red pepper
Directions
Stab the shit out of the meat with a long knife and make little x's with it. It's fun.
Rub your rub all over the meat. Wrap it in saran wrap and put it in the refrigerator overnight.
Place the butt in a roasting pan (or Pyrex baking dish with a baking rack inside of it if you're classy) on the bottom rack in the oven and cook at 300 degrees for 6-7 hours--until the meat falls off of the bone when you jab at it with a fork.
Allow meat to rest for one hour before pulling it.
Whoop, whoop! It's the weekend, and it's beeeeee-you-teee-ful! Enjoy it!
**Please don't go all bananas on me about giving the dog a bone (with a knick knack paddy whack?). I know that Mitch is not going to choke on this bone because I know that he's hardly going to even chew on it. Mitch is neurotic, and grew up during the Depression, apparently, and only has a bone for about 10 minutes before he buries it in the back yard (or in our bed if the back yard is unavailable).
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