We know it's apperently uncool to covet your neighbors wife, but what about their Crockpot? Slowcooker? Maybe I should have been a 70's child, but I've always wanting one of these babies. Soups, stews, chillies, seitan, and beans... oh yes, the beans.
I've always wanted to cook dry beans, but mine are always coming out crunchy. And nobody, I mean nobody likes crunchy beans. I want some thick, soft, held together, saucy, rich bean. And now for the saddest story you may ever hear.
This is the story of the crockpot that was nearly mine.
After years of wanting, pining, lusting for one of these ceramic gods. I happened upon a yard sale find, a working order, cleaned, functional, glorious crockpot from the 70's. Price tag 1$. One fucking dollar, I beg pleaded with my mother to lend me the cash, the women offers to give it to me for free. I gather all the change, get enough to buy it. Glowing and beaming I carry my new found love out into the car. Three feet from the door, it slips. Falling towards the driveway, shattering.... entirely. I was so close, only to have it all fall and crack away. I could have cried. Everyone was sympathetic. But nothing could take away the hurt, of having loved and lost.
so that is my story.