21 March 2006


So dinner this evening was entitled “Assorted Things that Annoyed Me by Falling out of the Freezer”. We have a crappy, 10-year-old, needs-to-be-drop-kicked-from-a-high-window fridge that is missing some of its freezer shelves. Consequently, there are occasional frozen-food slides (somewhat akin to your land- or mudslide), which result in “interesting” dinners when the mood is right (i.e., I’m annoyed – or injured – by said slide).

Like tonight. Tonight we had frozen corn-on-the cob, garlic bread, jalapeño poppers. And what we decided to call “Smeat”.

Smeat’s official name, according to the cardboard box it came in, is: Bar-B-Q Flavored Boneless Pork GRILLIN’ RIBS [sic], which is announced in inch-and-a-half bright yellow letters. In smaller type – still bright yellow – beneath this auspicious title appears the following description: “rib shaped pork patties” and in even smaller type – no longer yellow, but an inconspicuous gray: “smoke flavor added”. The directions instruct the potential ingester of the rib shaped pork patties to grill them over “white-hot coals” for 6 minutes per side. Or pan fry for 3-4 minutes per side.

I opted for pan frying as white hot coals were not readily available and even if they had been, it was 40 degrees, howling windy and pissing down rain outside. Not grilling weather.

So I pan-fried. And I’ll admit, I overcooked them. Having other things going on and Ms. Three-Years-Old to entertain at the same time, 3-4 minutes turned out to be more like 6-8 minutes. So they were, perhaps, a bit on the overdone side. If they have such a thing. And I’m not sure they do. Because even perfectly cooked - even perfectly cooked over white hot coals for exactly 6 minutes per side – I’m not sure they would have been edible.

Now I am not a picky eater. In fact, I would go so far as to call myself a fairly adventurous eater. I will try just about anything. I’ve eaten goat. I’ve eaten yak cheese. I’ve eaten pizza with a raw egg cracked in the middle of it.

I took one bite of my rib shaped pork patty, chewed for about 10 seconds and spit it out.

You might think it was just the pregnancy and you might be right. But even the husband, who has a much higher tolerance for processed food than I do, only ate about a quarter of his before he gave up and went with the jalapeño poppers instead. (He was also the one who dubbed them Smeat – 10 bonus points if you can name the movie that came from.)

By now, if you know me, you’re wondering whether I voluntarily paid money for these things. What are you thinking? Of course, I didn’t. They were “donated” to us by the husband’s grandparents. Which should have warned us, I suppose. His grandmother told him take the things home and throw them out and his grandfather, as I understand it, did not protest. Which is saying something, since the grandfather’s tolerance for processed food is at least as high, and possibly higher, than the husband’s.

In short, Smeat makes McDonald’s McRib sandwich look like gourmet food. I’m kind of shocked that these things are actually out there for sale with the intent that people eat them. Very hungry dogs seem like a more appropriate market. Very, very hungry dogs.


Queen K said...


The extraction team will be there shortly to repatriate you to the North...

Bethanie said...

Thank you, O Blessed Sister, thank you! Please hurry.... please....