Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: Instant Pot

The crud, the instapot, and other life adventures

I’m sick. Again. I kinda feel like we could take that as the de facto homeostasis, which doesn’t make me happy at all. This time, it’s bronchial crud, which, while I hate it, I’m very used to as I detailed in my last post griping about my health. I have a hacking cough, a runny nose (with unidentifiable crud in it), a sore throat, and total exhaustion. It’s making my already-double alto voice sound like Barry White, which ain’t a bad thing.

I will croon for you if you like. Forgive me for being loopy, but it’s the result of endless crap and crud. It’s been two months on and off, and more on than off. It’s like two weeks on and one day off, then on, on, on, and of—–onnnnnn. I hate my life right now. I hate that I have to wonder if this is my new norm. I hate that I feel as if I’m making excuses when I can’t get the fuck out of my house. It doesn’t help that I tend to cocoon in general, anyway, so am I just being weak?

In instapot news, I decided to do the pork shoulder recipe. It was basically throw four pounds of meat in the instapot, so how hard could that be? Well, I should have read the recipe itself and not just the ingredients because there was this thing called browning that included oil, which was not listed as an ingredient. I mean, I get it’s not an ingredient, but I didn’t have oil. I don’t cook, so why would I have it? But wait! I bought some for another recipe I was going to try, didn’t I? I looked for it and couldn’t find it. Damn it. I had already opened the meat and cut it into two pieces (two-and-a-half pounds rather than four), so I shoved it in the fridge and got ready to go to the store. I was sure I had bought it, though, because I distinctly remembered musing over vegetable versus olive oil. I opened another cabinet, and there it was.

I followed the directions on the instapot to brown the meat, but after I heated it up and opened it to put half the meat in (now cut in four pieces instead of two because it seemed smarter), I had a dilemma. If I was browning it on all side, should I just keep the lid off? Would it still work with the lid off? I put the lid on, then decided to take it off again. I had to manually decompress, and then the instapot wouldn’t turn back on. What the fuck? I decided to do the rest of the browning in a skillet (which was actually easier than doing it in the instapot, tbh), and that worked out fine. Except, I wasn’t quite sure how brown it was supposed to get. Anyway, I put the meat in the instapot with the water, the Liquid Smoke, and the salt/pepper, then pressed the pressure cooker button. Nothing. I was getting frustrated at this point (this was supposed to be soooooo easy), and I checked the cord. It had somehow loosened itself and wasn’t completely plugged into the instapot. I pushed it in firmly, then it worked. I cooked it for 90 minutes, which was actually too long given that I’d cut the recipe almost in half.

When the ninety minutes were up, I approached the instapot with trepidation. Was it going to work? In short, yes. It was juicy and tender (though some parts were overcooked because of my mistake with the timing), and Shadow, my cat, loved it, too. I would try it again (with the proper amount of time), but I really wish I had known that you still need to know how to cook to use them.

I’ve been playing a lot of solitaire this past week. It’s easy to do when I want to game but don’t have the wherewithal for MHW or DS II. Sigh. I’ve been up for an hour and a half and want to go back to bed. It doesn’t help that it’s Christmas 24/7 now. Ho frigging ho.

Adventures in instapot land

ha, no.
Mashing these should be eeeeeasy!

I got my instapot, which is a story in and of itself. It was supposed to come on Wednesday. I was puttering around the kitchen on Tuesday, and I got an email saying my instapot had been delivered, but they didn’t want to leave it unattended, so they would try again. They tried to deliver it without ringing the doorbell or knocking on the door, apparently. I was in the fucking kitchen. I would have heard someone walking up to my front door. I can give them absolution on the doorbell because one is broken and the other is wonky. However, I definitely would hear a knock.

They came right before noon, so the next day, I brought my laptop to the dining room to work while I watched like a hawk for the Amazon driver. That was another problem–they said I could give delivery specifics, but when I clicked on the link in order to do so, it was just a long list of all the companies they employed to deliver things. I didn’t know which one they were¬† using, so I couldn’t contact anyone specifically. Anyway, I saw a FedEx driver, a UPS driver, and a USPS driver in the span of an hour. None of them were for me, however. Noon came and went, and I was getting antsy. The message hadn’t said they would try the next day, but that would be the natural assumption, right? I worked as best as I could, but I couldn’t help staring out the window. The minute I glanced away, there was a car in my driveway. It was snowing lightly that day so I saw the tracks.

I blinked. A car? A plain ol’ car? Apparently, Amazon is moving towards the Uberification of delivery, which I do not approve. Who the hell am I supposed to contact with my delivery concerns? I mean, I’m sure they have a way, but they make it really difficult to discover. Anyway, I was just glad to get my instapot, but my god, the box was huge. I wasn’t quite expecting how big it was. Was I going to have room for it?

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