Braindrops

Sloppy Jerks

For the past few weeks, I've had this idea of chopping a couple of onions, mincing a garlic clove, browning 'em up in some olive oil, browning (CJ prefers the more chromatically accurate term "whitening") a couple of pounds of ground turkey, stirring in a couple of cans of cranberry sauce (another ingredient in the Ortho-pantheon of non-food foods, alongside non-dairy creamer, onion soup mix, and hot dogs), percolating the glop for about half an hour to squeeze the salmonella out of it, and serving it on a crusty roll. (Okay, Seven schmile schmarket Italian bread, which, as Madame Potemkin pointed out, is, amazingly enough, less pricey than the prepackaged mass-marketed perfectly square pillow-filler located opposite the meat counter, despite having a passable crust and enough dough conditioner to coiff a horse.)

Sort of a Sloppy Joe, with turkey. Thus, the Sloppy Jerk was born. Or whelped. And it was far better than it looked. 'A course, sewage probably tastes better than this stuff looked. But it passed the "make it again on purpose" test, in a way that the cranberry meringue pie of years past did not.

(Disclaimer: The comment above should in no way be seen as suggesting blogging with any frequency whatsoever. The children remain safe.)

As you were.

- Moishe Potemkin