I could care less about this recipe. I had leftover pork tenderloin from a stir-fry dish the night before and needed to use it up.

That’s not to say this isn’t tasty. A good cut of meat and herbs and butter and you’ll have a hard time going wrong. I’m just not much interested in it anymore.

So why the hell am I writing this?

Every Boring Step

1. In a food processor, combine a couple garlic cloves, a shallot, and a few fresh sage leaves. Short pulses.
2. Add a few pads of chilled butter. More pulses, until all is combined.
3. Take a portion of pork tenderloin and cut lengthwise down its side. Slap a bunch of butter in there and seal it up. Lucky for us the butter itself should do fine to seal up the pork and all things arterial.
4. In even more butter, sear the top and bottom of the tenderloin in an oven-safe pan over high heat. Move to a 400°F oven until the internal temperature reaches 150°F or about 20 minutes.
5. Remove, let rest, and serve whole or slice as you see fit.

You see that brown crap in the picture, sitting lazily under the six ounces of pork tenderloin and metric fuck-ton of butter? It’s roasted barley. It was boiled, dry roasted, and resaturated into something that will haunt my dreams until I find a good place for it.

Should be a fun week. I’m looking forward to the next post.

I have no intention of ever taking a picture of this dish with any sort of colorful garnish. I’m not a fan of useless food decoration. The lamb soup uses the mint. The chicken truly should include that basil. This thing we see above doesn’t deserve or warrant greenery. For a few reasons…

Monday Evening

• Me: what do i want to eat
• Patricia: foods
• Patricia: the eatable kind
• Patricia: or the noneatable
• Me: mmmmm
• Patricia: you should have something light.

What I Used

• Country Style Pork Sausage
• Flour
• Half & Half
• Biscuits

What I Did

1. Heat cast-iron skillet to medium and cook pork sausage
2. Remove sausage bits from the rendered fat and set aside
3. Add flour to fat and cook the resulting rue until flour is browned
4. Add half & half, salt, pepper, and stir until rue is thoroughly mixed (no lumps)
5. Add back the sausage and let simmer until thickened
6. Serve atop the biscuit/toast/english muffin of your choosing

I know what you’re thinking. “What a light and refreshing meal!”

Ok, so its the furthest possible thing from light. Oops. But there’s one reason not to garnish this dish with, say, some parsley leaves. It’s brutal and heavy and no amount of parsley is going to change the flavor or impression of this dish. Putting something green on it would be a lie.

As for this whole “Shit On A Shingle” title, SOS is the popular name in military circles for what is classically Chipped Beef On Toast. It was produced in mass in the middle of grueling campaigns and I don’t think I could ever put something like a sprig of thyme on top of that much history and connotation.

Though what I have made strays from the classic recipe, it was how I was first introduced to the SOS dysphemism as a teenager, having eaten it in this fashion early one morning before dove hunting. I’m interested in recreating the traditional dish now. But where the hell am I supposed to find chipped beef?!?!

Tuesday Morning

• Patricia: omg
• Patricia: white people eat horribly

Update: The next trip to the store I actually looked for chipped beef and found it. Game on.

I’m going to be upfront. I can’t recommend that you eat much of my food, for medical reasons. In fact, I was going to say something to the effect of, “I’m not liable for your bypass surgery,” but instead I might just be able to guarantee gastric/coronary complications. You’re better off trying to sue me if you stay healthy. Hah!

The abomination pictured above is one example. When I made this I rendered the fat from a half pound of bacon…in a half stick of butter. Combined with the natural fat from the beef, the result wasn’t so much a gravy as a solid bed of flavor topped by an ether of heart sludge. And I did mess up a few things, but more on that after the jump.

So if I had to do this again I would definitely lose the butter. I must have been drunk when I thought I needed it. I’d also turn the fat into a roux with flour instead of using corn starch. The result was still tasty, but needed careful portioning. I started slipping into a coma halfway through the 8 oz. pictured above. If you feel like giving it a try (or please, please, please improve it first) leave me a comment with your results, opinions, and any resulting medical conditions you wish to share.