So after an entire day of cooking, pureeing, and otherwise fucking with tomatoes, this is how many tomatoes I had left.

OK. This is kind of a long story. Bear with me.

Yesterday, and honestly, for a chunk of the weekend, I worked on the makings for a large-scale Mexican feast, including elote, for the Monday crew. It was, for various reasons, more elaborate than my usual Monday night large group meal. And one of the things it included was three avocados worth of fresh-made guacamole.

As you know, assuming you've been paying attention, the CSA has been delivering unto us bountiful quantities of cucumbers. And the best way to keep cucumbers from going bad, aside from eating them, is pickling them. Fridge-pickling them, in my case, because, well, fuck canning. I admire people who do their own canning, but I am not one of them, because cauldrons of boiling water filled with glass are not the kinds of things people should trust me with.

I spent a lot of time last year talking about and working with short ribs, which, in my case, means boneless chuck short ribs from Costco. These are similar to the boneless "country style" pork ribs you often stee in stores - rectangular prisms of meat with a fair amount of fat and some connective tissue threaded through them.

This isn't a recipe, it's a technique. A process. Learn to do this, and you can keep your fridge door relatively free of half-full bottles of salad dressing.

The one-minute viniagrette is not a fancy viniagrette. It's not a delicious viniagrette. It is a serviceable viniagrette that actually takes one minute. This isn't some fake Rachael Ray timeframe. The reason it takes one minute is because it's made up entirely of things you should always have within an arm's reach in your kitchen. So there's no grabbing, no digging, no prep work.

Like the Chinese BBQ Pork, I followed my previous recipe almost to the letter, but with two modifications. First, I didn't have enough lime juice to double the recipe, so I only doubled the stock and stayed with a half cup of lime juice. Needs must, and all.

Thanksgiving morning. All over America, chefs are stirring, planning their elaborate roasts of turkey and mashings of potatoes.

Me, I'm lying in bed at home thinking about pulling my pork.

When it comes to dry rubs for pork, I always go back to Alton Brown's "Who Loves Ya Baby Back" rib rub recipe as a starting point.

It's eight parts (usually tablespoons) light brown sugar, 3 tablespoons salt, one tablespoon chili powder, and one tablespoon made up of six half-teaspoons of your choice.

The first step in the Porkbastard process is breaking down the giant lumps of pork shoulder into the bits I need.

Looking at the pork shoulders, as on the left, there is basically a V shape from the bone removal, with the left side smaller than the right.

The mini-burger! 2007's hottest food trend! And now Forkbastard is here to show you how you can make these tiny delicacies in your own home!