Friday, February 4, 2011

Domestic LEGEND

I was reading Kolchak's blog raining bacon entry, ( and laughing. JD has the habit of always asking why I am laughing, what I am reading etc. etc. And as I started to tell JD about about the bacon rain, I froze mid sentence, both of us took a deep breath and both of us simultaneously whispered "Ahhh the great corned beef rain of 2003".

This is one of those stories that has been told and retold and it is now past the mere recollection phase and well into the "domestic legend" phase. It precedes me, so I only know every little delicious detail from JD who was a witness to the event, the lucky dog.

On rainy days, on nights when sleep eludes me, at times when I am bored, or when I am mad at momma and I need to feel I am smarter than her, I beg JD to tell us the story of the great corned beef rain of 2003. I know it by heart, but when he tells it, his nose twitches at all the right points and his mouth waters. It is always a bittersweet telling which leaves us hungry and longing for corned beef rain.

In any case, here is the story.

Momma has a hissy pot. You know what I am talking about? A tall big pot with a lid with a spewer gizmo that looks like a little robot head. You put the food in, the lids get locked on, and when the pot starts cooking it starts this rhythmic whine which gets louder and louder as the food gets closer to being ready. Wait, momma calls it a pressure cooker. {I guess she got the pot because she always has pressure.} It's a hissy pot...Back to the story.

It was a Wednesday in fall. It was getting really cold out and momma had wasted the day outside in the yard picking up the last few things before the first frost killed everything. The problem is, when momma is out there, she has no sense of time or anything else. By the time she came back into the house it was past dinner time and she was frantically running around preparing dinner. [We call this self imposed pressure] In the midst of her chaos, she stopped and got the brilliant idea of using the hissy pot to cook the corned beef she had been brining for days.

JD says he hates that noisy hissy pot. But as always, even in his tender youth, JD felt bound to stick around the kitchen, stay with momma, in the only safe spot- his kitchen bed.

Well, just about as soon as the pot went on the fire it started its whining. Finally, when the noise became as loud as a jet engine, momma's alarm went off and she turned off the fire. So far, everything appeared "normal". The table was set, the dishwasher was empty, momma had changed out of her gardening clothes and had even taken a shower. The place smelled great and daddy was on his way home.

Momma kept looking at the hissy pot, now quiet, but it was still locked. The darn thing was not about to give up the corned beef. Momma ran cold water on the pot. No dice. The hissy pot was not going to cooperate. Apparently the hissy pot did not really know momma. After a very quick read at the book the hissy pot came with, momma decided to stick a spoon under the spewer gizmo to help it lose pressure, so it would give up the corned beef .

Well just like the hissy pot did not know momma, momma had no idea that the hissy pot would fight back. As soon as that teaspoon touched the gizmo, the hissy pot ejected the little robot head and voila` a gusher erupted with full force and violence against the ceiling and then and a gentle rain came down all over the kitchen. A wonderfully seasoned, deliciously smelling, greasy corned beef flavored rain with tiny flex of corned beef and seasonings. This was so magnificent that JD left his bed to dance in the rain. The corned beef raining season lasted for a good 8 minutes. Nothing could be done to stop it. Momma was speechless. It rained corned beef. All she could do was watch.

In the end everything in the kitchen was covered in corned beef juice. Everything. Including momma who took another shower. I am told that cleanup was a nightmare and that they were picking corned beef bits for months from the most unusual places. And the smell? JD says the house smelled of corned beef anytime it got warm, until... a painter was called to "killz" the walls and ceiling and repaint.

But, dearest momma, while you think all traces of that corned beef rain are gone and long forgotten, I should tell you, the story lives on and on and on.... and it has been shared with poodles, puggles, akitas and chows, with just about anyone at the groomer, at the vet, at the pet store... and it always leaves the listener in awe. For old times sake... can we have another corned beef season???

Kol, may we also add your story too? You got to dance in bacon! Ahh another story destined to become domestic LEGEND!

'vie and JD
Hey mommmmmma how about corned beef for dinner?


Honeygo Beasley said...

Feb., this the month for corned beef!
I've heard of it raining men.
Raining cats and dogs.
But never corned beef.
Good story, 'vie!
Have a great weekend,


rocky-dog said...

Mama read me JDs story about the corn beef rain and Kols story about the bacon rain. We never get good rain like that at all here. Mostly just the plain wet stuff that makes my tummy wet when we go on walks. You guys are spooo totally lucky.

Kolchak Puggle said...

Oh 'Vie, you had me and Mama rolling in laughter! We can just see the look on your Mama's face as it rained down all that delicious corned beef juice. Oh 'Vie, thank you for sharing this! It's definitely the stuff legends are made of.