Survival Sunday 228: The Aporkalypse Cometh

Sometimes, there comes a time in a person's life when there are leftovers no one wants to eat in the fridge. It may be that you've had a large party in the last few days and one of your entrees wasn't the favorite. It may be that you just had to cook up a large package of something that was about to go bad so you can extend its potential shelf life. It might just be that you kind of didn't succeed 100% at the recipe you were trying, but while the food isn't great it's still edible.

Regardless of the reason you've had the leftovers, you've probably had them. You've probably also looked at them several times over the ensuing days and thought "boy, I do not want to waste food. I'd hate to chuck it, but I'm just not that into it."

So here is the story of how Z and I survived the Aporkalypse.

My mom is a great cook, but pork products are very difficult to keep tender when you're cooking them en masse (or if they're porkchops, but we gave up on those years ago...), and as she still has the mindset of a mom cooking for six or more people, she tends to cook big.

And that's how we ended up with a container of bone-in pork spareribs in the fridge for several days.

Now, I usually love my mom's pork spareribs. They're always coated in tangy barbecue sauce, cooked in the oven in one of her pretty pyrex or ceramic dishes with the flowers and vines painted on, and they're usually really flavorful and good.

For whatever reason, however, these ribs came out tough, bland, and unappetizing. My dad, who usually takes leftovers in to work for lunch, refused to touch them, and so they sat for days in one of the tall Tupperwares in the fridge.

I needed something to cook with. We were out of meat or meat substitutes that I could bring with me to the kitchen where Z lives, and I wanted to cook. I really, really wanted to.

My choices were thus: I could try my best to make bao buns with the pork ribs, I could attempt pork floss with them, or I could make soup. Since I only had just so much time, the seven hour process of making the bao just wasn't going to work, and since I was not confident in my abilities to remove the bones and properly fry and pound the meat, the floss would have to wait for another time, too. Pity - both would've been great.

Instead, I got the biggest pot with a handle I could find - the one we usually use for mashed potatoes, and I dropped all of the ribs inside. Then I added about 2 cups of chicken broth and dumped in some soy sauce for good measure (probably 1/4 cup, to be honest, and that was a bit much). Then I let it simmer and boil for several hours while I did my blog and drew. That's right, this was a Thursday endeavor.

Here they are with the bones still in, simmering merrily away on my stove!

After several hours simmering away, I started probing the once-tough meat with a slotted spoon. The spoon sank into the meat, so I used it to fish out the bones and set those aside. I should also mention that these ribs were fatty as heck, which made their earlier toughness even stranger.

The ribs are now de-boned and swimming in... far less liquid than before...

I let the pork soup sit on the stove for another hour or so to cool down before dumping it into the same Tupperware it had come from. After washing the Tupperware, of course. I'm not gross.

Here's where things get... weird.

See, I don't visit Z on Thursdays, more often than not, so I wasn't going to be bringing the soup over then. Instead, I waited a day, then brought it over. It took a couple of tries to get the right-sized pot, but then, when I tried to pour the "soup" out, I found it had completely congealed. That's right. I'd simmered all of the broth out, leaving only the rendered fat and soy sauce. How unappealing!

But we saved it with water, more soy sauce, and some frozen corn! Ah, frozen corn, most noble of the bagged freezer aisle veggies. Blessed among the grasses. Yes, corn is a grass.

Regardless, we let that simmer until the pork was beginning to shred into nothingness, and then we went completely mad.

We added a brick of ramen. These were buckwheat soba, so they were pretty umami to begin with, and when we added the packet of flavoring to the soup, it was even better. The seaweed and extra soy flavors really brought out the flavor of the pork, and with the subtle barbecue flavor from their first cooking, this was a really pleasant meal

Even if it looked faintly terrifying.

So why do I call it the Aporkalypse?

Well...

Remember how I mentioned that my mother cooks like there are still half a dozen people living here?

Yeah. Only two people ate ribs the night she cooked them.

I packed four or more servings of pork ribs into this weird noodle stew, and we absolutely felt it. For days. That's way too much meat for two people!

So my only caution for you all is this: if it looks like there's a lot of food, then there probably is a lot of food, and therefore you should try to consider whether to hold some off for later or just invite at least one more person to eat!

...

I'm totally making it again someday, though.

Maybe with more curry flavor than bbq...

Go Enjoy Something!
FC