16 lbs fresh lean pork
So... loin? I'm never sure what cut to use.
Ok, remember how I started a small fire? One of the casings burst and cut loose a small aerosol of grease. I was broiling them, so the oven door was open and they were near the element... nice little flare up. I just tapped the door handle, it slammed shut, and the fire was out. I open a window to air out the place a bit, since it got a little smoky.
Well, The Pug saw this. Evidently Pugs dislike fire. She freaked. Tail down, panting, waddling around the house and refusing to sit. She had refused to help make the sausage (I assume that's what it means when she snorts and waddles off), but she did keep her promise to help eat the sausage. It was the only way I could make her stop pacing.
Fast forward. The Girl makes some baked chicken last night. I had not yet cleaned the oven. It got a tad smoky smelling in the house. The Pug notices the smell and freaks again. The Girl asks why The Pug freaked when she turned on the oven.
So, you guys ever have that Bill Engvall moment where you know not to say something, and then it falls out of your mouth? It's like you're hearing someone else talking in your voice and you're thinking "No! Don't say it!!!" and then there it is...
"I guess she doesn't like your cooking..."
So I woke up this morning on the kitchen floor with "CALPHALON" written backwards in little raised letters on my forehead, and I got to thinking that there may be some health risks associated with owning a sausage maker *and* being a dumbass.