Mouth Watering Disappointment

Tried and True

There’s no arguing with the fact that I’m on record as not liking to cook.  But what I seldom say and Nyel often reminds me is that I CAN cook and, not only that, I have several signature dishes – recipes that I brought in my dowry and that we both really like.  Recipes that seem to taste best when I make them.  Just sayin’…

So, yesterday we were both looking forward to spareribs.  I don’t do them often, but when I do, they’re bitchin’ as they say.  We had bought two big packages of baby back ribs at CostCo earlier this fall and had one package for dinner that very night.  The second package went in the freezer until day before yesterday when I put it in the refrigerator to thaw.

NOT!

It was a shrink-wrap package and when I cut it open yesterday afternoon, the smell practically knocked me out.  OMG!  Talk about tainted meat!  I called Nyel – not to corroborate what my burning eyes and running nose already told me, but so that he knew that I wasn’t being overly persnickety.  That’s an ongoing issue in our house – I have rules about left-overs and other questionable food products; Nyel will eat almost anything.

“Throw it out!” he said.  I think that was a first.  But the garbage truck doesn’t come until a week from Wednesday and I surely didn’t want to smell up the neighborhood in the meantime.  So, the ribs are re-wrapped and back in the freezer until garbage day.

Next Time…

Meanwhile… I’m pretty much off the idea of ribs for a while.  And, no.  I’m not taking the package back to CostCo.  Number one, it’s not worth the effort of keeping them frozen on the way and, further, I wouldn’t want to inadvertently (or even advertently) expose anyone else to that odor.  It’s the second bad meat experience we’ve had with CostCo and, as far as I’m concerned, they won’t get a third opportunity.

Oh… and about dinner last night.  Nyel had made a huge batch of Coleslaw to go with the ribs.  It was delicious with our tuna fish sandwiches – tuna compliments of our friend Phil Coffin.  Now if only Mike Karvia was still raising pigs, we’d know just where to go for our next batch of ribs!

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