So, after starting this food blog last night, I laid awake most of the night doing research on food blogs. Which, in retrospect, may have been a backwards way of doing things, but whatever. After a while, I had a moment of panic. Ummmm… What the hell’s a web host? Why do I need to buy a domain name? Shit, what the hell did I do?!!?! I AM NOT A REAL FOOD BLOGGER, MOMMY I’M AFRAID!!!
But then I went pee. And I thought to myself, “P-Dawg…” (because that’s what I call myself sometimes is P-Dawg), “This is YOUR blog. You don’t have to be a real food blogger. You can do whatever the hell floats your boat, dumbass.”. Then I felt much better. So, unfortunate folks who may follow me in hopes of obtaining an incredible recipe to wow your fancy pinky-in-the-air dinner party guests, this probably ain’t gonna be it. I cook because it’s fun. I write because it’s fun. I typically don’t measure shit. I approach cooking like I approach life most of the time; I just throw crap together and hope it turns out ok. Usually, it does. Haven’t burned one house down yet. Small kitchen fire, sure. Singed an eyebrow or two, of course. That’s normal. So that being said… Here is my first official recipe/non-recipe! Hold on to your panties. This is a little something I like to call… These Damn Pork Chops Butter Be Good.
See, growing up poor way back in the olden days (way back in 1984 or so), we didn’t have fancy things like premade bread crumbs. Nope. We had to wait and watch bread go stale if we wanted bread crumbs, which, I have to tell you, gets old pretty quick. Bread is not at all entertaining as it goes stale. It makes the same sound that a room full of people make after I tell a joke. Haha! Sorry. Moving along now… Ok, there probably WERE actually premade bread crumbs back then, I suppose. However, I wouldn’t know, because in my house, no pork chop was breaded in anything except a crapload of smashed round, buttery crackers. Of course, since becoming an adult and doing my own cooking, I’ve done some pork chop experimentation in the form of Italian bread crumbs, saltines, even Captain Crunch (I may have been drunk when I had that idea)… But to this day, nothing compares to the buttery, crunchy goodness of the round cracker. Try it. You’ll see. Here’s what you need to do:
First, have your sleeve of crackers meet an object that will cause it blunt force trauma. Like this:
‘Sup crackers? I’m about to mess you up.
Commence cracker smashing. Hulk style.
Next, gather your essentials. Pork, flour,eggs, smooshy crumbs, martini.
Then, you probably know the drill. Give those chops a flour/egg/crumb bath. And this is when the magic happens. Throw those suckers in a hot, buttery pan on the stove. I prefer to use a shitload of butter in a cast iron skillet, mostly because it can be used as a deadly weapon ifsomeone came up behind me and tried to steal my chops.
Then, when those puppies are nice and brown, which for me was about 5 minutes per side, and after setting off the smoke alarm only once, you are ready to eat.
Actually. *I* am ready to eat. I did all the work here. Make your own.
Ok ok, here’s the official/non-official recipe condensed with no food porn in between. The things I do for you people.
These Damn Pork Chops Butter Be Good
Prep time: Depends how long you hammer crackers while yelling “HULK SMASH!”
Cooking time: Long enough to be cooked, but not so long the kitchen goes up in flames
- 3 or 4 medium-sized pork chops (I go with thin cut ones, otherwise you run the risk of burning the breading while trying to cook the middle, which sucks.)
- Flour for dredging
- 1 – 2 eggs, scrambled, like my brain after 2 martinis
- 1 sleeve of round snack crackers (Like Ritz, or cheap Ritz. Whichever.)
2. Heat a skillet on the stove on medium-ish heat, and melt a giant, heart attack-inducing pat of butter.
3. Toss the chops in the skillet, cook 5 minutes or so on one side, flip those babies over, then do the same on the other side until they are not raw and will surely not give you any raw meat diseases.
4. Shove ’em in your face.
Whew. This blogging thing is super hard. I need an assistant.