The jerk store called…

My husband is a caveman. Or is currently eating like one. It drives me crazy. It is an ongoing battle in our household with the battle-lines drawn over the consumption of pasta, beans and grains. In university, I was a tad bit obsessed with the Neolithic revolution, the time in history when we began to domesticate crops and finally settle in one place, when we were no longer nomadic hunters and gatherers. My husband, although not a nomad, would like to see us all return to our Paleolithic roots, some 2000 years before the Neolithic. Although he hasn’t made me give up my knives for knapped stone tools, I am half expecting this will occur sometime soon.  The irony of ironies is that I have just been hired at a high-end Italian restaurant to be one of the pasta makers. My husband gets to live with an Italian trained cook and does not want to eat pasta. The Paleo diet is driving me crazy.


Suffice to say, there has been a lot of happy, grass-fed meat consumption in our household. I seem to find empty beef jerky packages at every turn. This is not happy meat. This is salty, processed meat.  In an attempt to make happy, healthier jerky, my husband and I bought a locally raised tri-tip piece of angus beef from a nice butcher shop, Medium Rare. Using a recipe for Mexican Lime Jerky from Food and Wine magazine, we marinated the thinly sliced beef in lime juice, steam-whistle beer, and jalapenos overnight. In the morning, while we were at the market, the beef was cooked low and slow until we came home and it was chewy and beefy and all the things happy jerky should be. Personally, I do not like beef jerky, but my resident caveman gave it a wholehearted thumbs-up. 



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4 comments

  1. Pingback: neo-cavemen | from pasta to paleo

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