Slow cooking
I have a rump roast in the slow cooker. The sauce may wind up being too salty, thinking back on what’s in there, but maybe I can dilute it with something. I sort of threw it together by the seat of my pants — onions, mushrooms, thyme, bay leaves, oregano, slightly-smashed garlic cloves, worcestershire sauce, tomato paste. I seared the roast in a cast iron skillet and I deglazed the skillet with that salt-laced cooking wine (I know, I know, but I hardly ever have real wine, and you can’t get it in the grocery stores here in Tennessee) and a little extra water. Then, at the last minute I threw in a couple of chipotle peppers, just because I happened to run across them in the fridge.
There wasn’t much liquid when I left for work this afternoon but there is now. The apartment smelled terrific when I walked in the door.
I am using the greatest invention of the millennium so far, Reynolds’ Slow Cooker Liners, which means that — unless you happen to poke a hole in the bag when serving — there is near-zero cleanup of the slow cooker when you’re through. Even if you poke a hole, the mess isn’t cooked-on, and so it’s pretty easy to dispense with.
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