On this snow-cold night, we're having a re-run of Sunday's pork roast---I separated it from the blade-bone, sliced some fairly thick meaty slices and put them into the bottom of a baking dish. I layered on sliced onions, small-cubed potatoes and shredded cabbage, with a good grind of the peppermill between each layer. Some tiny-cut bits of the roasted peppers went in for a bit of color.
I stirred chicken stock, some soy sauce, minced garlic and a bit of cornstarch in a big measuring cup, and poured it over the top. A tight-wrap of foil from the top, then one up from the bottom for a good steam-seal (plus, I under-estimated the cabbage and had to press it DOWN, and then it was still way up in a dome---it will cook down low, but I couldn't judge how much juice and if it might run over in the oven).
It's been baking for about an hour and twenty minutes, and it's perfuming the entire downstairs. Maybe a few big ole catheads to go in while the oven's still hot, for this last jar of homemade pear preserves.
Chris just called and is slowly making his way home through all the drifts. He'll be glad to be greeted with such enticing scents, and even though he's spent a long drive through the snow, I'll bet he'll be whirring up slushy Margaritas before he gets his hat off.