I'm never cooking again. Part 2.*

Remember that one Thursday night when you tried to make a ham?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

That's how it's going to go in about 3 days. For now, though, the other white meat is on my blacklist.

First of all, who makes meat that's the same color whether you buy it cooked or uncooked? Pork producers, listen up. Inject some White #4 in there or something, because pink is not the new cooked.

"So is it cooked or not?" the DNB asks, warily.

I shrug.

"Oh, it's bleeding," he says as he eyeballs it from all sides.

"Let's go with uncooked then," I reply. Fearing this, I've cut off some chunks from the massive, pink, bone-in, uncooked monstrosity I somehow thought would be a good idea. They're lying sadly in the oven. I've been basting them with brown sugar and honey every 15 minutes.

"I don't know how to tell if the chunks are done," I tell him, poking at them. They're the same color they were when I put them in an hour previously.

"Maybe a meat thermometer would have helped?"

I stare at him.

Eventually the meat is done, but the baked potatoes take another thousand hours.

"No really," the DNB says when we finally eat. "It's pretty good."

He pauses. "Really good!"

"I hate cooking."

* The DNB insisted that I title this "Part 2" because he's sure I've threatened this at least once before. Haha, sucker. It's been like 3 dozen times.