My husband’s always been fascinated by kitchen gadgets. Usually, they leave me cold, and after sitting on our kitchen counter taking up valuable real estate, ultimately find their way to a shelf in the basement. But when he first bought our Instant Pot, I experimented freely. As one who does not know the night before what will be for dinner the next day, I enjoyed the ease of turning dried beans into meals without the need for an overnight soak. I scoured the internet, experimenting with recipes. Needless-to-say, some were more successful than others.
Just as my zeal was waning, Pettigrew’s diet switched from dog food to chicken and rice, and lo and behold, the Instant Pot proved its worth again. It’s a champ at poaching chicken and cooking rice.
At this point, I am convinced Pettigrew believes the Instant Pot, like so many other things in our house, was purchased specifically to meet his needs, e.g., the living room sofa, the backyard grill, throw pillows, and anything my husband is cooking.
He recognizes the beep that signals the Instant Pot started and saunters into the kitchen, sitting alertly and waiting for the distinctive multiple beeps that indicate cooking has ended. And, if Pettigrew judged correctly, his meal is ready.
This doesn’t play out well when we are cooking dinner for ourselves, or food in advance for him.
I guess we should’ve anticipated this. When we met him at the shelter we determined he was food motivated. At the time we thought this would help us train him. But, that was before we really knew Pettigrew.