(near) Death by Pot Roast

This true story is based on a true story.


"Where is that noise coming from??" I ask the cats.
No answer, surprisingly, but Sara is sick.
I can hear a tight piercing pulse, like a smoke detector.
"@#$%ing neighbours!" I scream, as I walk in circles trying to find the source, assuming, as always, that it is our neighbors. (note: Their smoke detector battery died 3 months ago. (re: Beep!!....Beep!!....Beep!!...) And we anonymously dropped a 9V battery into their mailbox weeks ago to stop the madness.)
As I step out onto the back deck, I can hear the alarm much better, so I peer over the back railing and voila!
Out of the kitchen window of the house behind us, pours black rings of smoke, and I freeze.
"Holy $hit, holy $hit..."... I scream.
Do I call 911?
Is this for REAL?!!
Two cars pull into the driveway.
An old man, and a younger version of himself, casually get out of their cars, and greet each other amicably.
I cup my mouth and yell: "SMOKE!! SMOKE!!" And point to the house.
The old man looks at me, the young man's look says 'Huh?'
I yell: "FIRE!!FIRE!!"
Shock sets in, and the young man wheels around, adrenaline pumping.
He sees smoke pouring out the window, and his body body tenses.
He yells to the old man, and smashes the door open.
Black smoke billows out the door.
The young man starts screaming: "Where are you?!! Where are you?!!!" (In Polish, so I paraphrase here).
The old man enters the house, and echoes his son: "Mish, mush mush, mishy MUSH MUSH!!"
Again, I didn't understand a word of it, but knew they were searching for the old lady.
But I didn't hear her and their voices grew louder, more anxious.
Then the yelling stops and it gets eerily quiet.
Nothing.
Then the yelling starts again, but now the over-riding emotion is relief.
"Get up old lady, get your ass up!" says the old man. "You just about burnt the damn house down!"
"Wha?.."
"Get up, the house is on fire!!"
"It is?"
The young man barrels out the door, holding a flaming pot roast, black smoke flowing like a tornado.
He tosses it into the garden and goes back into the house.
The yelling continues, and grows angrier by the moment.
Seems to me like the old lady isn't taking the blame for it.
She comes out the door, and closes it behind her.
Her arms are crossed, she doesn't believe them.
She can't believe them.
She is indignant, and petulant, but then her facade slips.
She swipes her eye with an elbow, and her shoulders slump.
She sniffs.
Then crosses her arms and goes back into the house and starts yelling back.

Me? I go inside, sink into the couch, and cry.

The moral of the story?:
Don't eat pot roast.

Eat this instead!!

Compassionate Couscous

1 tbsp earth balance soy butter
2 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 onion, chopped
2 stalks of celery, thinly sliced
1 yellow pepper, diced
1 cup green beans, cut in pieces
1 can diced tomatoes
1/2 cup orange juice
1/2 cup vegetable stock
Salt and pepper to taste
1 cup medium grain wheat semolina (couscous)
1 can chick peas
2 tbsp oregano

To make:
In a frying pan, melt the earth balance soy butter over medium high heat.
Brown the garlic, onion, celery, pepper and beans.
Cook for 3 minutes.
Add the tomatoes, orange juice and stock.
Bring to a boil, season and add the couscous, then stir and cover.
Turn off the heat and let stand for 5 minutes, or until the couscous has absorbed nearly all the liquid.
Add the chickpeas and herbs and mix well.
Serve immediately.

No one ever died from couscous.

TCE July 2011

"People used to get tattoos to be different, now they do it to be the same."
- Us.

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