Cardboard?

As much as I love lard, I am starting to have doubts about it. Today I really wanted a biscuit, but I had no bacon grease on hand, so I made biscuits with a mixture of butter and lard. The texture was fine, and there was no boar taint, but they tasted a little bit like cardboard. It’s very hard to beat bacon grease in biscuits. The flavor has no rival.

I suspect the cardboard flavor was caused by oxidation. Lard seems to go funny very quickly. The can I have is from Thanksgiving, and I wouldn’t want to use it after the middle of this month. Maybe lard should be kept in the freezer.

I used butter because lard doesn’t have a lot of flavor. I do this with pie crusts, too. If lard isn’t optimal in biscuits, maybe it’s not the right thing for pies, either. Maybe bacon grease is the fat of choice. Sometimes the hint of bacon flavor will be a problem, but it won’t hurt a fruit pie.

Country ham grease is fantastic for baking, but you have to dilute it because the flavor is so strong. It can add a strange flat taste to food. Hard to describe.

Now that I eat so little, I don’t see how I can work effectively on recipes. What would I do with the food? Today I made four biscuits, using half a cup of flour, and I gave half a biscuit to Maynard and Marv.

I didn’t make it to church yesterday. I figured I’d be home from Boca in more than enough time to make it to church by six, but I got home so late, I would have been here for about half an hour before turning around. I was wiped out, too. I didn’t eat enough, so the lights in my head were starting to dim. I corrected that with two slices of bad pizza. I feel bad for the people who recently took over the nearest pizza joint. Their food is never going to be any good until they start using real cheese, but I doubt they’d admit using the fake stuff if I offered a suggestion. The lady who waited on me yesterday had a great attitude, but when it comes to pizza, service means nothing. Quality is all.

I could get rich selling pizza in this neighborhood. I could make a dynamite cheese pizza from $1.50 in ingredients and sell it for ten bucks. Surely that margin would cover rent and other costs. There has never been a decent pizzeria within half a mile of downtown South Miami, which is the nearest conglomeration of stores and restaurants. Anyone who makes good pizza available in this area will be a millionaire in a year. I wish someone would do it. I wish there were two of me, so one could open the pizzeria and the other could go on with life.

If I had a pizza joint, I’d sell pizza, rolls, and soft drinks. Forget the other stuff. Too much aggravation. People would come. No one would refuse to do business with me because I didn’t offer fripperies like stromboli and spaghetti. They’d crawl on their knees and pay whatever I asked. The local pizza famine is at least 25 years old. I’d be hailed as a hero.

Mike needs to move down here so we can become pizza magnates. I’ll make him do all the work. Of course, he’d be dead in six months, and they’d have to bury him in a cargo container. That’s the down side. My dad would probably be buried next to him.

I should just go in there and tell those people they’re doomed. I can hand them my recipe, plus directions to Gordon Food Supply, so they can get real sauce and real cheese. But they probably have to buy whatever garbage their company sells. They’re part of the Cozzoli’s chain. I’ll bet they have some sort of exclusive commissary contract.

Time to leave for church.