I want there to be no peasant in my realm so poor that he will not have a chicken in his pot every Sunday.
~ Henri IV, France
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I was recently at a wonderful dinner party. At one point, the conversation turned to food (imagine that) and there was a rather contentious discussion about crock pots. Rod was not sure why, but he just didn't like the idea of eating food from a crock pot. He said it might be because they're too big. This was challenged and overruled by the group. He tried a few other reasons, but eventually agreed that maybe he should give the crock pot another shot.
I think, if we step back from the concept of the crock pot and just focus on the words, we will find why the idea is unappealing. Crock. Pot. Neither of these words has a particularly epicurean tone to them. In fact, they are remarkably close to the most horrific of all words, "conglomerate." I seriously hate that word.
I love your posts! They make my day bearable so many times. Tonight as I read the Crockpot posting the middle chicken's head keep moving as my eyes moved to line four of the your text. I thought it was something weird with my eyes, but it tested it 12 times and everytime the chicken in the middle moves her head forward. I've decided that Apature thing is as amazing as your writing ability. Or, I suppose I'm exhausted!
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