VAST SCADS OF PORK SHOULDER

I've always had a soft spot for pork. What other meat is so delightfully fatty and degenerate with eggs and tofu? And some parts of the pig make truly splendid chile verde.

Chile verde is the very nectar of the gods.
The amrit with which to drench.
Sustenance of the soul.
Prasadam.

The ONLY way to make chile verde is to forget about tomatillos. That's NOT what makes a chile verde green. The chilies do.

Because my circle includes people of a somewhat waspy hue (i.e.: so white they glow in the dark, as well as a number of Cantonese people), I employ a selection of green peppers from mild (bell pepper) to incendiary (unripe chile de arbol, even green habanero), with a preponderance of New Mexico chilies, jalapeños, and mulatto isleño.
Roast and peel a sufficient quantity to fill a bucket.
Cube an amount of semi-fatty pork to match.
One or two onions, and some garlic.
A few cups meat stock.
Fresh lime.

The vegetable matter should be chopped or minced as appropriate, the onion and garlic seethed to glaze in a little olive oil. Add the meat and colour slightly. Add the green chilies, inundate with stock, stir, squeeze the lime over, and simmer for a couple of hours on low, checking occasionally. The liquid should reduce, the chilies pulpify, and the meat become fork-tender. It should be twixt soupy and stew-thickness.
Add water, or reduce. As necessary.
Smoky, sweet, and hot.

NO TOMATILLOES!

Bring it to a party and serve with steamed rice, and tortillas de harina. Bring beans for the Texans who cannot live without them, and cheese for all the East-Coasters, who think everything needs cheese.
Watch it disappear before you have any.



POUND UPON POUND OF PORK SHOULDER

All this came to mind this morning because of the crap that spambots keep dumping into my letterbox.

I've been receiving a lot of Japanese stuff lately. With links to handbags, smut sites, pills, and payday loans I do not wish to explore. These contributions get deep-sixed immediately.

However, two brainiac English-speaking spambots keep dumping messages in there that are mildly amusing.

One compliments me on my truly superior sense of rhythm and wishes to watch while I amend something (is this sexual?), and the other one tells me the discussion is fascinating, and the subject that was ellucidated totally entranced them, nay, enthralled them to the point of wonder.
They were wet-eyed after reading, and can I do more?
And by the way, how can they contact me?
There is much they wish to say.

Poor spambots!

I'd offer you both some chile verde, but you might end up bathing in it and getting eaten.



The letterbox exists so that people who desperately wish to get a hold of me, or folks who may have forgotten my actual e-mail address, may establish contact. Additionally, young women who think that I would be a fabulous coffee companion (followed by a cigar, either a corona or Sumatra panalito, from Hajenius), as well as not likely to upset the societal apple cart or too eccentric for words, can send out feelers.

Spam, and other pork shoulder products, should be food only.
Not long baffling missives and epistles.
Or short goofy crap.
With HTML.


Please write.




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