Thevictorian Easter Feasters

We did not have a big Easter dinner at the home of Thevictorians. Genius is living in Kansas City, and did not drive across the state for a free meal. He is saving his vacation days to devote 7 of them to his work at Missouri Boys' State again this summer. The Pony rarely comes home unless we decree such a trip. With an 18-hour round-trip drive, that does not happen often.

Hick said he didn't care if I prepared a big meal. In fact, he said that since the weather was nice, he could grill. Well. Who am I to say NO to a meal I don't have to cook? We decided on a feast of BBQ pork steaks, hot dogs, and four sausages left over from one of Hick's last-week meals. I don't really like those Montreal Steak flavored sausages. That's why four of the six were left in the package. They're too spicy for me. Not a fan.

For side dishes, I warmed up some maple-bacon beans straight from the can. Didn't even make a pretense of adding other flavors and baking them in the oven with onions and bacon. I bought some potato salad at Save A Lot, which saved me about 90 minutes prep time. Of course I had some slaw on hand, from Walmart. I also picked up some corn-on-the-cob at Save A Lot. Sure, Hick could have wrapped them in foil and cooked them on the grill. But it's easier to wrap them in plastic wrap and microwave them for two minutes. No dessert here. We aren't sweet people.

Anyhoo... Hick has been having trouble with Gassy G, the gas grill he bought at an auction several years ago. He says only two burners work now. In addition, he found out that his propane tank was empty. Thank goodness he has several spares that he's picked up here and there, so he was able to commence the cooking. I spent a few minutes talking to him, while shucking three ears of corn over the back porch deck. Took him a foil-covered pan to put the cooked food in when he was done.

As our feast was finishing cooking, I set out the potato salad, slaw, hot dog buns, and some chip dip on the cutting block, in their original plastic containers. No tablecloth even necessary! I DID use the metal spoons, rather than plastic. The beans were simmering on the back burner. I wrapped the corn and put it in the microwave. Then I went to sit down for a few minutes in the La-Z-Boy. Such hard work, this holiday meal prep!

It was less than 60 seconds that I had my feet up, because Hick barged through the kitchen door with a plate of BBQ hot dogs. Not even one of the GOOD paper plates, but the plain white fluted-edge flimsy ones.

"Ooh. I don't know WHY you slather BBQ sauce on those hot dogs. I don't like sauce on mine. I just like them grilled. Why did you put the hot dogs on a PAPER PLATE! I brought you a tray for them!"

"Well, they wouldn't fit right."

Said the man renovating a $5000 house, yet unable to arrange pork steaks and hot dogs on a round pizza pan covered with foil. He put them on the front burner (a no-no, because the juice will seep through, and next time I use that burner, it will smoke and set off the smoke alarm). I moved the plate to the metal part of the stove top. Hick went back for the pork steak platter. Why he trusted three dogs to watch them is beeeyooooond me!

Here's when our feast began to unravel. Hick went to take his nightly shot, which is just a jabby thing into his leg, not like he's mainlining a narcotic. He told me to go ahead and fix my plate. Surely you didn't think we would sit down at the table and eat together! Hick generally sits in his La-Z-Boy, watching TV, so I take mine down to my lair. I told Hick to fix his plate when he returned from his shot. He told ME to fix my plate. We never go in this order! I can't have him thinking he's in charge.

"No. You get yours ready first. It will take me a while to get mine ready, because I have to put stuff away."

"No. YOU go first. I'm going to sit at the cutting block."

"Well, thanks for telling me now! I could have been cleaning it off. I set all the side dishes out there."

"You didn't ask. Go ahead and get yours. You always say I'm in the way."

"That's because you ARE in the way. When you sit at the cutting block, I have to go around you to get to the fridge and put stuff up. Here. I'll start cleaning it off."

"You go ahead first. I told you."

"Well, then YOU will have to put stuff away!"

"I can do that."

Against my better judgement, I complied with Hick's command. I had some little ramekins that I used for some beans and potato salad and slaw. No need slopping up a plate with juices running together. It was also portion control. You know, because I wouldn't want to indulge too much, what with a pork steak and a hot dog as my main course. Plate in hand, I abandoned the kitchen, and any hope that Hick was going to put stuff away right.

"I set out a container for the meat. Don't forget to put it in the refrigerator, and the stuff from the cutting block. Don't put the bean pan back on the burner, and don't fill it with water in the sink. I don't like picking beans out of my drain."

Hick grunted like he intended to comply, and off I went down the basement steps. As soon as I was below eye level of the living room, I heard Hick eject from his La-Z-Boy. I'd no sooner set down my plate beside New Delly than it dawned on me. I had no ear of corn! I went out to the bottom of the stairs to holler at Hick.

"I forgot to microwave the corn. It's ready to go! Put it on one minute. Then turn it and do another minute. I don't want it now. It's not worth walking upstairs for. So you can have all three if you want, or throw it out."

This is what happens when Hick disrupts my plan. No sooner had I sat down at New Delly and taken a bite of hot dog--WAIT A MINUTE! That was no hot dog! It was one of those darned sausages! I'd taken it off the tray with the pork steaks, because it was the blackest, and had the least sauce. I went back to the bottom of the stairs.

"I'm guessing you put the sausages on the tray with the pork steaks. I wish you would have told me, because now I have one instead of a hot dog."

"I did put the sausages on the tray. I didn't know I had to tell you."

"Well, you led me to believe you'd tried to put the hot dogs on the tray, and they wouldn't fit. So I thought I'd found a good hot dog without much sauce."

No reply from Hick. No sooner had I sat back down to my lair feast than I heard Hick hollering something. Huh! What in the world was he blathering about? He'd better not be mouthing at me about the sausage-hot dog fiasco. I went back to the bottom of the stairs.

"WHAT???"

"I said my hot dog bun had green on it, so you'd better check yours. I got out the other bag of buns."

"Don't worry. I'm not eating it anyway, because I don't like the sausage."

SHEESH!

I finally sat down to feast, with the rest of my solitary meal being fairly uneventful. The pork steak was tasty, and okay, but not up to Hick's usual standards. I think he'd put too much sauce on the hot dogs, and neglected the pork steaks. They didn't have the usual char around the edges with caramelized BBQ sauce. Still, it was done, and not dried out.

We have leftovers for several days. Maybe Hick can take some hot dogs for himself and HOS for lunch. I figure I can wipe some sauce off a hot dog, add some sauce to a pork steak, and warm them in the oven for my finicky tastes. I'll probably go without the sides next time, and cook myself one of the two remaining ears of corn. I hope Hick enjoyed three of them. He might not want corn next time.

The boys don't know what they missed. I'm pretty sure I'm going to tell them in their weekly letter, though.