* * *
Do this when pot roasts are on sale. And buy two of 'em. Giant Eagle had them for $2.99/lb last week, so for right around $13, I got a shit ton of beef.
Some people add a little oil to the pan, but I think that complicates things. It takes like 5 minutes to get them crispy-ish if you do it over high heat.
Then you throw them in a crock pot. Take a packet of Italian salad dressing seasoning - the kind you're supposed to mix with oil in a fancy cruet to get Italian salad dressing. I've never done that. Sprinkle that sodium-infused, probably-MSG-laden mystery powder all over the browned cow. I like to do both sides, but whatever. And then you pour in a can of beef broth - I use the fat-free, low-sodium stuff, because I think the regular stuff is way too salty, but don't make a special trip to the store to buy it. I don't think you'll die if you use the regular broth, just drink more water with dinner.
your pepperoni roll dough recipe. Au jus, because of the broth, and oh man, is that stuff good.
And since you made two roasts, get this - you can freeze the rest and you have another dinner just waiting for you on a day when you feel like you might die if you don't eat some truck-driver food.
Seriously, Erin, this mess is tasty.
* * *
Naturally I found my associate's recommendation intriguing, and I would have immediately undertook the task save for one glaring obstacle.
I did not have a crock pot.
The starkness of that admission stands alone and I will not embellish it with further commentary. That said, although I am frugal, we are not penniless. I could easily afford a Cuisinart PSC-650 6.5 quart stainless steel programmable slow cooker or one of the lesser models, but frankly, purchasing a new crock pot struck me as obscene. After all, I live in suburbia: a land rich with duplicate gifts and redemptive garage sales. I'd find one used.
Although it took a few months, I finally unearthed this beautiful object at a yard sale and procured it for five dollars.
|Experienced crock pot.|
Although I plugged the unit in to verify operation before handing over my wrinkled bill, I did not thoroughly inspect it. And when I got it home the Goat discovered a tiny nick in the cord, which he reluctantly repaired.
"Maybe you should buy a new one."
|Crock pot repair courtesy of Goat.|
The result? Incredibly tender meat piled on one of my homemade rolls drenched in a rich and salty poor-man's au jus. I sprinkled sliced scallion on mine and the Goat had his straight up.
This was easily one of the best sandwiches I've ever had the pleasure of constructing, or more succinctly:
This mess is tasty!