Wednesday, 8 April 2015

An Easter miracle - the dead is reborn

I'm not ashamed to admit that the only thing Easter means to me is a four day weekend, however Easter 2015 served up a miracle of sorts in the form of a rebirth. 

It has truly changed my life.

This is our old oven that was crucified by a dodgy thermostat about 3 months ago. 

Three days...three months, it's sort of the same thing. I didn't put it in a tomb and roll a boulder in front of the door, I did the lazy thing and shoved it in the corner of our back yard and draped a tarp over it.

This is a dead chook and the belly of a dead pig, bathing in brine.
a 2 day bath, the lazy buggers
The extra long weekend gave me the time to conjure the spirit of LaGermania and perform some oven-meat-smoker-metamorphosis. With some advice from my chef-trained computer programmer friend (what an awesome combination), we set some BBQ bricks on fire and sprinkled hickory chips over the top, managed to maintain a temperature of between 60-90 degrees Celsius and shoved the chook and pork in to get a smokey baptism. 

Two hours later the chicken was done, and given the truly magical fattiness of the pork belly, it metamorphisized from a big slab of belly into a magical slab of smokey deliciousness over six and a half hours.
looks a bit wrinkly, but was surprisingly moist and tasty

a bit of maple syrup added some colour and sweetness

I was forced to attend church every Sunday until the age of 17. I hold a deep, almost serious grudge against my parents for this mild form of child abuse. Not just because Sunday school was a complete waste of time, but because they decided to stop going to church after me and my siblings moved out of home. What pricks. 

No, I'm not completely serious. I love them dearly, but we all have things from our childhood that we would rather have avoided, truly soul-scarring or not.

I hope you had a wonderful weekend with people you love. Mine was eerily quiet, given my wife and kids were interstate, but it included a fishing trip, preparing and eating my first taste of steak tartar, a chance to write a bit of bullshit here, and this Easter miracle. 

Life is good. 

All the best.