Last night's ribs were deemed "too hot" by She Whose Tongue Must Be Obeyed and I was corn-fused.
Too hawt? Meaning too cool?
Too hot? Meaning, I told you they just came out of the smoker so don't burn that Tongue That Must Be Obeyed.
Too hot? Meaning spicy hot? I only put a tablespoon or two of cayenne pepper in the rub and basted it with Devil Fire sauce. That kind of hot? I didn't notice.
These ribs were a "quick rub" in that they didn't sit in the fridge overnight, just an hour or so. I usually give quick rub ribs (try saying that three times!) a couple of hastings to "run off" any excess rub powder that hasn't melted into the meat, but this time I only gave it a single baste. Maybe that left too much cayenne on the surface resulting in the "too hot" observation.
Observation, not complaint. Observation, not judgement. Observation, not a declaration to take over rib smoking for the next 40 years or so. Yeah, "observation" not those other things.
Tonight it's roast chicken which won't be hot or hast but hot, if you get the drift. Nothing funny except for the purple roasted potatoes, but, hopefully, I can explain the whole End of theWorld calendar thing and why we must eat purple potatoes. Besides, they were on sale, which also explains the pineapple rings on the chicken.
Chicken pineapple? It's all the rage. In Peru. Trust me, I'm an expert!