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|
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.