Dinner Guest #14 - The Kunz Family

On Sunday, April 1^st, we were not at home to host our Sunday dinner tradition.  However, that minor detail was not going to stop me. 

Instead, I invited my niece, April, her husband, Paul, and their cute family over to dinner at my parents’ home in Park City, Utah.  Not wanting to burden my mother with the meal preparation, I planned the menu, purchased the food, and brought it with me.  My mother had a rather large pork roast she needed to use up so “Pot Roast in Beer” quickly became the main dish.  I’m not a beer drinker and generally don’t know what to buy.

I am completely clueless in the beer aisle at the grocery store. 

I don’t know what’s bitter, sweet, full-bodied, dark, or a good match for pork roast.  This I do know:  a big can of Foster’s Premium Ale costs less than two dollars and therefore, it’s a winner.

After combining the beer with cream of mushroom soup and pouring the mixture over the roast, I placed the lid on the crock pot and let the cooker work its magic.  I then walked over to the sink to pour the remaining beer down the drain.  Never tempted to drink the stuff, I actually have my own, alternative beer ritual:  I put my nose to the can and inhale deeply.  The smell of beer reminds me of my teen age years in high school:  driving to a party where the parents aren’t home, listening to Guns N Roses “Sweet Child of Mine,” and me, always the designated driver for my under-age-drinking friends who often threw up out the windows of my 1989 red Jeep Pioneer.

To accompany the pot roast, I prepared several side dishes:  au gratin potatoes, sweet potato casserole, spinach salad, parmesan rolls, and strawberries with fruit dip.  All six children ate rolls, strawberries, and a few bites of pork roast.  As expected, all six children stared at the remaining side dishes and refused to eat them.  I didn’t bother with dessert as my father brought out a beautiful carrot cake purchased from his favorite deli, Kneaders Bakery.

I love a Wendy's quarter-pounder with cheese, small fries, and a chocolate frosty.  I can devour a Taco Bell double-decker taco in less than a minute.  Winchell's donuts give me a stomach ache, but the pain hasn't stopped me yet.  However, a slow-cooked, Sunday dinner surrounded by friends and family truly puts fast food in perspective.

I generally don’t require compliments after cooking a meal, although my mother gave me a good one when the meal was over:

“It’s nice to have someone cook for me.”

I think most people feel that way.