Day 4 The Edible Tatonka

Day 4

I just finished eating my lunch consisting of two patties of ground bison leftover from last night’s bison burgers. I bought the bison at the commissary. I’d seen it there before in this little freezer bin they have for things that they only get occasionally. I never know if I should buy food out of that freezer or not. On the one hand, the contents may just be things that are rare commodities, and so don’t warrant permanent space in of the nice, upright freezers. On the other hand, everything in there could be the freakish reject-o-meat from 15 other stores that no one in their right mind would buy. Next to the bison I was eye-screwing, rested a pile of frozen pig stomachs. There’s a couple of things I don’t know about pig stomachs: 1. Why, if it is no longer inside a happy, slop munching pig, is it wrapped up loosely in plastic and sitting in this freezer unit at a food store. And, 2. Please see 1. The presence of the pig stomach is not casting the warm rays of credibility to the bison meat, which didn’t even have a price listed for it.

So, naturally, I bought 3 lbs of ground bison. It was $4.99 a lb, which I didn’t find out until I was at the checkout; where I was being pressured to hurry by one particularly grumpy BBW and her three poorly behaved heffalumps. Being not a courageous man, I just paid the $15 and quietly snuck out the door. (after not allowing the 113 year-old bag caddy to carry out my single plastic sack, which earned me a ghastly gaze clearly decrying me as an evil man who hates old people and puppies)

The bison, though expensive, was pretty good. I made hamburger patties out of it (cuz, what the hell else are you going to do with 3lbs of ground up tatonka?) and we had burgers. Well, Diana and the girls had burgers. Not allowed what might as well have been cyanide-laced potato buns that everyone else was going to enjoy, I used the remaining two misshapen homemade tortillas from the other night and made this groovy quasi-Mexican/Greek/Navajo buffalo quesadilla burgerwich. It was good. I might have enjoyed mine more than the others theirs.

They weren’t bad reheated at work either. Though, I didn’t have any more tortillas left, so I just ate them at my desk with a plastic fork. The microwave rendered them a bit tougher than my fork, so I just stabbed them and bit chunks off. I was having a swell caveman time of it until my boss walked it to ask me some inane question about a performance report and spied me gnawing at this cut of dead buffalo like a saber-toothed marmot.