A Strange Sort of Fear

Hi, my name is Rick, and I can't buy meat. (clap, clap) "Welcome, Rick."

As weird as it sounds, it seems to be true. I wander into a grocery store with good intentions, lovingly picking out all the best deals on stuff. Sometimes I go blasting in with a short list of items and blast back out again, but sometimes I go in and carefully wander each aisle, looking for the elusive loss-leaders. Although I usually shop from a list, I find it's also beneficial to go up and down each aisle just for that occasional "Oh yeah, I forgot about that" visual reminder. Everything goes well until I turn the corner to the meat section.

Then I freeze up.

I look at the meats all lined up... Keeping my distance... Noting the array color shades. Beef, pork, chicken, and "mystery meat" (sausages and other strange things). I might stand there for a minute, hoping that a price sign might catch my eye, and with a deep sigh, advance for a closer look. At what? I have no idea. I see the meats lying there in their nice, clean plastic-covered packages and that's as far as I get. I look at the cuts of meat and have no idea if they're any good, and if they should be cooked a certain way or best used for a certain thing. After pondering things like that for a few minutes, I look at the prices of the packages. With a sigh of resignation, I shuffle off.

Meat: 1 - Rick: 0

I see the price of a package of meat, and I'm faced with two scenarios of uncertainty:

1. Not knowing what to do with it, figure I'll probably just fuck it up anyway.
2. If I do cook it, I'll probably end up eating way too much of it and defeat the purpose of the "I should be able to get 2 or 3 meals out of that" assumption.

Either way, I usually move on and buy nothing.

Don't they have classes for people like me? I was taught a lot of things about cooking and baking over the years and I can hold my own very well. I guess I must have been stoned during the meat chapter. Maybe part of the problem is the fact that my parents didn't barbecue. My mom was a resourceful mother with 5 hungry rug rats to feed, and usually ended up buying ground beef because of it's ability to take on so many forms and flavors. My dad wasn't the dad you see on TV out in the back yard with the apron and the tongs, lovingly basting his smoking gourmet feast on the grill. He was the guy sitting in his easy chair wondering what time dinner was.

I can pan fry, bake, and use a crock pot, but I don't own a grill. I know there are cuts of meat that are tough and best used for crock pot, and there are cuts of meat that it would be sacrilegious to put in a crock pot. But I don't know which is what. If I do learn them, I would need to carry a tip sheet to the store with me to remember them anyway. Hey, maybe that's what I need--A guidebook to carry with me.

"The Idiot's Guide to your meat"