I had two packages of meat to cook: one pork shoulder, one containing two beef ribs.
The ribs were done in about 8 hours, but the pork needed a longer cook, and it was late, so I put it into a cast-iron casserole in the oven. I set the oven temperature around 250f.
At least, I'm pretty sure I did...as I said, it was late, and I distinctly remember setting the dial between 225f and 250f since it would be in the oven overnight.
At 6:30 a.m. the following day, I opened the oven door and - it's at room temperature.
So which part was the dream? Turning the dial on? Or did I sleepwalk and turn the oven off? Because, I DO remember waking up around 1:00 a.m. and thinking - I'd better see if that shoulder is done, but I was actually too tired to get up and do anything about it. Or was I?
Anyhow, the whole thing was pitched into the chicken pen for them to enjoy, even though Dan tried to convince me that he would indeed eat it.
He also said that I owed him some pulled pork, 'cause nothing is worse than anticipating a smoked barbecue sandwich all week and then not getting one - so guess what I'm doing this weekend?
