Tuesday June 30 2020
Last day of June 2020. Taking bets on what July will bring us. Murder hornets turned out to be a non-event, or merely edged out of the news because who cares about them now. We continue to watch the horizon for the four horsemen.
Been keeping a journal in my head and wanting to write stuff down for several days. I just get pulled away for other things that aren’t easily ignored. Of course, thoughts are best recorded when fresh and raw, before their cooked down to be more palatable; a reduction sauce with the juiciest bits simmered away by time.
Right. I’m cooking while writing this.
My new Instant Pot has failed me twice in a row now. I use this new-age appliance two to three times a week and have become a little reliant upon the pressured-cooked goodness it brings to the table. But this week, it’s not getting to pressure and if I wait long enough, the Burn error will appear, telling me it’s sucked all the best juices out of what I’ve collected inside for our dinner. The last time I was making risotto to go with some shrimp I seasoned creole-style and sautéing. Was able to save the risotto easy enough. Tonight it’s rice again, but instead of the luxurious arborio grain, it’s brown rice mixed with beans to make a southwestern side dish. This is the hard core long-grain brown rice that I bought at the beginning of the pandemic when it was the only rice option left on the shelves. Not some instant or quick cooking stuff, but the live-off-the-land-cook-over-a-fire-all-day pioneer shit. Didn’t even know they sold this, but honestly I would have never bought it before because who has all day to cook brown rice. Not like it’s meat or something worth waiting for.
So, I’m wondering what’s causing the Instant Pot to avoid pressurizing. My first suspicion is the sealing ring. I pull that thing out and toss it in the dishwasher after every use, so I suppose it could be stretched out, avoiding a tight seal.
And just like that, Kenny Rogers is in my head singing “You picked a fine time to leave me, loose seal.”
W. T. actual F. and how did that actually enter my head? And worse, how do I get it out now? It’s not the worst three lines to have as an ear worm (with four hungry children and a crop in the fields …); it could be worse. It could always be worse.
It could be something like “Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolee-EEE-EEN.”