First Blood

I borrowed the Stallone classic from Luke on the night of the duck, but still havent' managed to watch it. The title is in honor of tonight. I ate my first red blooded animal, my first mammal. Pig. I made pork chops with Paul and shared them with him and Becca.

Paul was my able chaperone for this cooking adventure. I provided the ingredients and the recipe. He provided the functioning oven and ability to tell when the meat was cooked through. We started the beets roasting, and good times ensued, including a quick break to track down some brandy. We ended up in a serious liquor store on Bedford somewhere around Madison. Happily brandy was available in sizes starting at airplane bottles and running up to a liter. After making the tough call as to which brand to go with, we returned and got back into it.

I didn't fully brown the pork chops, so the baking part took longer than expected. But it was worth the wait. Despite the late hour, Becca ate with us. The texture was intense. The musculature was much more complex, there were large chunks of fat to be avoided. And of course the ever-present bone, which had bled while we browned the chops, making it oh so clear we were cooking flesh.

Once again, I found the visceral texture overwhelming, leaving the experience of the taste a distant second. I could taste the mushrooms and thyme, but I don't have a strong memory of the pork flavor. That said, I felt very calm and well fed after finishing the chop and my beets. I didn't feel at all bloated, nor did I feel hungry by the time I got home.