Harry Henderson’s Perfectly Cooked Rice .

When it comes to cooking every mature manly man knows that only “real men cook.” So when cooking a delectable dish such as baked chicken or otherwise one needs a great side dish such as a nice bowl of rice to compliment and add essential carbs to a meal. Therefore, I upped myself and thought within,  you need to get your lazy ass over to Walmart and get some rice.

Ten minutes passed and I was standing within isle number 7 looking at my former enslaved brother Uncle Ben (Side note: Someone  really needs to update his picture unless they want to add a bullhorn and a whip).  And since no one has the balls to stand up to Mars Inc… the makers of Unc’s great tasting but not necessarily good for you brands of  inorganic rice logo needs to be updated as it seems to have undertones of racist images of slavery to it. Seemingly it reminds me of field hands working on a rice plantation in Texas, or Louisiana…I’m just saying.

Regardless of the image on the packaging as I have no idea of what was on the mind of those who created or approved the marketing thereof had at the time of its origination. I  had just finished working at my job in a cold storage facility and did not want to mess up another side dish  to go along with my adobo styled baked chicken. And, just as I was about to grab some jasmine rice from bruh Uncle Ben I looked to my right… Stunned more than a man at the end of a taser gun, I was like “WTF!”

“Excuse me bruh, but you shouldn’t be eating that.” The beastly man said in kingly sounding English.

Damn near jumping out of my skin, I shouted “Yoooooo Bigfoot what in the hell are you doin’ in Walmart? I thought animals weren’t allowed in here. No offense fam,  but you are one tall-ass-9-foot-hairy-ass-dudeamal  looking mofo.” My heart sped a thousand times a minute as I spoke.

Digressing, I have to add, that it’s a strange coincidence most people seem to invent new words like dudeamal when under intense pressure. And, seeing a 9-foot-hairy-ass creature standing in front of you will bring out your creative side every time.

Also, unlike the movie…The Hendersons, Harry made quite the impression on me being well-spoken and quite well-mannered. Plus after a long conversation and a barrage of unorthodox questions in which I sought answers for such as… “Do bears actually use Charmin Toilet Paper to wipe their asses after shitting in the woods?”

In his king’s English accent he answered unequivocally, “Yes they actually do.”

And to my surprise, he elaborated, and I quote, “That’s why grizzlies and other bears will vehemently chase down and ravenously eat nosey people because they have itchy asses.” The reason being, “…they don’t want the world to know why Charmin tissue is so damn expensive… and why bears are partially responsible for deforestation in America. The bear species made a dubious, albeit covert agreement with Procter & Gamble to get a lifetime supply for each and every bear that shitteth in the woods.

Many people have unwittingly walked up on bears literally wiping their asses with this premium brand of toiletries  but have not lived to tell anyone about it…

I was told by one anonymous bear who is obviously smarter than the others by a longshot and has been caught stealing food several times by Ranger Smith… stated, “We bears know when you are watching us so we don’t use this extremely soft toilet paper hen people are present inside the park and have to walk around with itchy asses all day and that makes us anal to the tee.”  Harry introduced me to him shortly after we met inside Walmart.

All I am at liberty to say is that the bear in the picture above with the frying pan over his face definitely isn’t your average bear and his first name rhymes with hoagie.

I actually had to apologize to my momz 3 times already…

To make a long story short, Harry doesn’t like to be seen by the public since his demise in fame by the likes of his orange looking cousin-President DT.

He later went on  and introduced me to his beautiful cousin Marisa G Henderson who barely stands above 5’4 inches and is a little less hairy then her first cousin Harry…Yes, I mean the same hairy mofo from Harry and The Hendersons. Yes,  Marisa G Henderson’s is  part of Harry’s family. Nevertheless, she was gracious enough to show me how to cook the perfect bowl of Jasmine Rice.

However, when we met I seriously doubted that she was in fact biologically related to Harry being that she had an angelic face and a killer smile that could con a Rattlesnake out of his rattler.

Looking her sternly in the eyes I demanded that she  “Show Proof” that Harry was indeed her second cousin and to make a long story short simply shook her head and said, “My feet brutha. My feet will tell you the whole story.”

Shocked after looking at her feet pictured to your left, I asked…”Shouldn’t we be making wild rice instead?” As we spoke I accidently dropped my Galaxy Note 8 into a bucket of mop water.

“Dayuuumn! I shouted.

Growling, she looked up at me and said…”If your phone gets wet try putting it in some rice then at night the rice will attract Asians who will then come and fix your electronics for you.”

“Hey, that’s racist!” I said sternly.

Smiling she said, “I know. And so does your remark about me making wild rice. So your apology is accepted sir.”

Let’s just say that Marisa’s chicken wasn’t meant to be eaten by none other than Nigerians…delicious!

Grabbing my chicken and holding it close to my ribs as every brutha does when we order a bucket of KFC we left to go to her place. Looking at her feet again, I knew it would be a place where civilization and the wild would come together. 

I was headed to a place that reminded  me of my old federal  prison days whilst heading to the chow hall amongst the herd. As pans seared with hot food the voice of Marty Stouffer the narrator of Wild America ran through my head. The voice chimed inside my head in a rushed grizzly manner saying,…Watch as the inmates make there way down to the chow hall grueling as they go for their food.

After a bunch of clanging and banging, for about an hour the dish was presented to me an we both ate like animals. I thought i would never find myself licking a plate, let alone my fingers and the table as well. No napkins were used at any time as they would have been a waste.

And just for the record, I would like to apologize personally to the Henderson family. Marisa G Henderson is not missing but is currently being held in my kitchen and has permanently replaced my rice maker which was immediately tossed to the wind. So please don’t call the police they won’t be able to help you. Being that she is related to Harry my lawyer has stated that… “it is legal to keep her as your pet project.”

As a side note, I love to eat and share recipes and if you would like to share a recipe with myself and my audience and be featured on this site please feel free to contact  me via the contact form on this site.

Underneath is the recipe for cooking the perfect rice.

Enjoy! Ciao Biatches! 

Utensils needed:

• 1 nonstick frying pan
• 1 stainless steel pot with a lid
• 1 wooden spatula

Perfect Rice Recipe:

• 1 cup of dry jasmine rice. Put the rice inside of the pan and cover with a few tablespoons of olive oil. Season with rice with a quarter tablespoon of chicken base, onion powder, garlic, and Goya sazon seasoning. Heat the rice slowly in the pan for a minute or two until the rice is searing hot.
• Immediately pour the searing rice into the pot and pour hot water into the pot until the water is at least one inch above the rice. Cover the rice immediately. Let the rice stand for 5 minutes.
• After 5 minutes, turn on the flame very low and let the rice simmer slowly until the rice is fully cooked. usually 20 minutes or more.
• Add a little more water if you are one who prefers a softer more sticky rice.