Not that I want to join a recipe site, but when I attempt
something new, I like to share. Please allow me to tell you how I used the other half of a frozen
stick of HOT WITH PEPPER venison sausage, a gift from my hunter son in Hot
Springs
The first half stick I used in a vegetable soup that
was so seasoned with the sausage that no salt or pepper was needed. The second
half, after thawing of course, I sliced into patties and fried, ala regular
sausage.
Too hot! Too hot! Someone suggested chili. So here’s
my “Venison Sausage Chili” (using what’s on hand in the pantry.)
In a plugged-in crock pot ( wedding gift in 1960) set
on “low,” pour in a 15-ounce can of tomato sauce (I don’t remember why I bought
this unusual type of tomato). Add a 15-ounce can of beef chili with beans, and
a 14.5-ounce can diced tomatoes.
Sprinkle liberally dried onion flakes (in lieu of an
onion) and add eight patties of the sausage, cut into bite-sized pieces. If chili
is too thick, add tomato juice. Cover and let “cook” or heat till suppertime.
By suppertime, with only a taste, the heat tingled my
tongue too much. Something else had to be added. Aha! Research said potatoes
and dairy would lessen the heat. Luckily, I had a can of potatoes and a can of
corn in the pantry. I dumped veggies and liquid into the mix, plus an unused
packet of au gratin sauce.
Now, it’s more of a soup than chili and it’s still
hot, but with a cold drink at hand and cheddar cheese chunks added, it is
manageable. And it’s lasted quite a while. Alas, I have one more stick of the hot sausage, but I found that Becky likes hot venison sausage. She’s already come by for it.
Keeping to the subject of meat, I’ve lately read and
studied Pablo Neruda’s “Ode to a Large Tuna in a Market” as part of a poetry
workshop. Neruda is Chile’s most famous poet. I own his Book of Questions and
may order his book of odes. Odes are praises to something or someone and when he
saw a lone fish among the vegetables, it struck him oddly enough to write a
poem about it. I envisioned a roundish, squatty fish, but no, it was a bullet
tuna, long, narrow and dark. And dead. Then appearing as a clue in a crossword
puzzle, a 3-letter “bluefin.” The answer? “Ahi” pronounced “ah-hee.”
My aging cat, Greye, suddenly last fall, refused to
eat the dry food he’s eaten all his longish life. One day, he brought the
bottom half of a rabbit to the door apparently wanting to bring it inside. NO
WAY! I threw the poor animal’s remains as far as I could. From that day to
this, Greye will not eat dry food. Whether his mouth and gums were sore from
eating the front half of a rabbit, I’ll never know and he’ll never tell, but I
decided to try canned food. After several different fish combination cans, he’s
settled on Friskies Salmon Dinner. Nothing else.
Shall I write an ode to canned salmon?
c 2020, PL dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA
2 comments:
Your heavily meaty recipes are not for my vegetarian self though I am pleased you enjoyed them.
I hear you on the fussy cat front. Jazz has a whim of iron where his food is concerned and it can make life difficult in catering to the changes. Sadly he often refuses (flatly) a food the day we buy more of something he had previously indicated was good.
You've reminded me of my mother who was a fair hand at "under the kitchen sink cooking." Whatever she found under the kitchen sink went into a pot for dinner. Sometimes it was good and sometimes it was...interesting. Your recipe sounds good!
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