The Big Ass Pot
At one time I had this big pot that I used to make gravy or Spaghetti Sauce as some of you may call it. My husband reminds me often, “Gravy is brown”. I also used it for making soup. It was a big pot – I forget how many quarts – with a nice heavy bottom and a lid. The heavy bottom made it perfect for making gravy because it rarely allowed the gravy to stick and burn.
Now some of you who are somewhat perceptive may have noticed that I am speaking of this pot in the past tense. There does happen to be a story related to this pot.
I brought this pot with me when I helped on a women’s retreat that we were giving and providing food for. Denise, my sister-in-law, used it to make marinara sauce for a pasta dish we were having. There were a bunch of us cooking and cleaning up. One of the women, who I’ll call ‘Liz’, also brought a pot that was similar in size but didn’t have a heavy bottom or the same type lid. I had also provided an even larger pot that was better for cooking/steaming seafood or corn – but we used it for marinara as well.
As we cleaned up, I took my heavy-bottomed pot and put it with the lid in my bigger pot and put them off to the side and out of the way. I wish, I had stuck them in Denise’s car trunk but I thought her car was locked. So in the kitchen, off to the side, they sat, the heavy-bottomed pot and lid inside the steamer pot and the steamer pot was covered with its big lid.
So by now, you should’ve guessed where this is going. It turns out the car wasn’t locked so we began to load the car on Sunday morning and were pretty much ready to leave when Denise realized she was missing her car keys. We started pulling everything out of the car, hoping that the keys were on the bottom of the trunk or maybe in the 2 pots. As I checked the pots, I realized that my heavy-bottomed pot wasn’t in the big steamer pot. The lid was also missing.
I went back into the kitchen and couldn’t find my heavy-bottomed pot and lid. I did however find Liz’s pot and lid. I went to her and asked her if it was possible that she had taken my pot in error and left her pot in the kitchen.
“Oh no,” she said, “I have my pot. I know it’s mine because it was my mother’s pot.” Well, I’ll tell you a little secret, Liz has OCD and she is obsessed with food. There’s no way that was her pot!!! It was MINE!!! MINE, I tell ya! And I have way too much class to go up to her and call her a liar/thief!!!
So I let her keep my pot.
Well, sometime later I went shopping and bought myself “The Big Ass Pot”. I will never let Liz anywhere near it because there’s no way she’s going to house it and say it’s her grandmother’s or her poor dead cousin’s big ass pot! It’s mine – I bought it with my own money at the Home Goods store in Delran. And Liz isn’t going to lay her obsessive/compulsive eyes on it… ever!