Under Pressure

I love my pressure cooker.

There, I said it. It feels good to get that off my chest.

Momma cooked with a pressure cooker often, but I never took to it. I think my hesitance to fully embrace it was partially because I had an old hand-me-down pressure cooker, and it was finicky. Then 2 years ago Momma bought me a new pressure cooker for Christmas. It's not a fancy one, and it's a bit small, but it gets the job done.

So, why do I love the pressure cooker? Let me count the ways...

1) It's fast. I can cook chicken breast pieces in less than 15 minutes, carrots in less than 10, brown rice in less than 20, dried beans in 30!
2) Dried beans (so much more economical than canned, not to mention the only sodium is what I add) cook to such a lovely texture. They still have to be soaked for 8 hours so they don't foam, but I can handle that.
3) Meats cooked in the pressure cooker are fall-apart tender, and shred very well if needed for a casserole or similar recipe.
4) One-pot meal. Enough said?

I could probably go on, but I think you get the idea.

Adam heard his mom tell one too many stories (or was it one story too many times?) of a pressure cooker "exploding," so he's a bit... cautious when it's on the stove. If you pay attention and follow the directions, the chances of this happening are basically zero, and today's pressure cookers are a bit more advanced than those generations before used.

I'm actually thinking of asking for a larger one with a pressure settings instead of just the regulator so I can do some canning. I've checked out an awesome electronic model, but I think I'd miss the rattle of the pressure regulator. There's a sense of satisfaction that comes when the rattle starts and you can start counting down the (few) minutes until dinner's on the table.

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