The Pork Boys Do KFC

A couple nights ago.  Didn't take any pics, it wasn't a big cookery thing for us; mainly the other Pork Boy was coming to get his good kitchen knives that he forgot to take home with him last time.  M.P. picked up a bucket of KFC and a bottle of wine on the way over.  I opened a can of baked beans and a can of turnip greens.  Added some microwave bacon to the last, you know the Pork Boys have to have some kind of pork for dinner, always.

Opened a can of biscuits and threw those in the oven.  Meanwhile M.P. applied his culinary wizardry to making some chicken gravy - without any chicken drippings, of course, since we didn't fry the chicken.  Don't ask me for details, you don't want to know - it's a dark art.  But some kinda good when he got done with it, yessir.

Oh and I slaved for all of 4 minutes whipping up some instant potatoes in the microwave.  So we loaded our plates, filled our glasses, and proceeded to chow down big time on all that good, gooey Southern stuff we love.  And watched the incredible Betty Hutton sing and dance her heart out in Annie Get Your Gun (1950).  Which took us about four hours to watch, because of all the interruptions for commentary on the film, the singing, the acting, and the set and costume designs.  Not to mention more interruptions to reload our plates.

Finished off the evening with ice cream and caramel and chocolate syrups, and coffee.  Nothing fancy, just goooood eating.  But we're working on a special menu for Mardi Gras, which of course will put M.P.'s Cajun heritage in the spotlight.  I can tell you that one item is already definite:  a king cake.  Which sure beats the hell out of boring old Episcopalian pancakes for Shrove Tuesday.  Being Anglo (Anglish as the Cajuns say) ain't all it's cracked up to be.  Grin.

And that's all the news from Texas worth reporting.  Except that it was 73 degrees outside today and will be again tomorrow.  Don't hate me, Frank.