Air Force invasion ... of my kitchen

Several weeks ago I had a call from my son Andrew.

Senior Airman Andrew of the Tennessee Air National Guard.

He called to tell me his unit was being sent to Savannah, Georgia, for a week of training exercises.

Along with several of his fellow Airmen, he wanted to stop by the house on the way.

For barbecue.

My son is fond of my cooking. He nearly cries when I offer him a fried-egg sandwich, so you can imagine the throb in his voice when he speaks of my barbecue.

If only my barbecue were the clever kind. But alas, we have established I am far from Debbie Domestic, and besides, I only follow a recipe when not to do so would be sheer folly.

Pirate!

But barbecue? Very forgiving. Open to interpretation. Difficult if not impossible to ruin.

I've shared this with you before, but in case you weren't paying attention and on the off chance someone from Food Network is reading:

You just buy yourself a bodacious pork loin, cut that sucker into three-inch-thick medallions, and throw them into the crock pot.

Then you slather the chunks with copious amounts of worcestershire sauce and creole seasoning (I like Tony Chachere's but Zatarain's is good too), turn it on HIGH and let the meat cook for several hours.

You'll know it's done by the way it smells. I cannot describe it but you'll just know.

And when it's done, it's falling apart.

Turn off the crock pot. Remove the fork-tender pieces of pork to a platter for cooling. Get rid of the cooking juices.

When the pork pieces are cool enough to touch, remove all fat. Using your fingers, shred and pull the meat, placing the finished product back into the crock pot.

Now this is what you do: get out your ketchup, your mustard, your bottle of Tabasco, your dark brown sugar, and whatever kind of prepared barbecue sauce you like. It needn't be fancy or expensive.

This is where you go nuts. First, sprinkle a handful of dark brown sugar over the pork. Do not pull a Jenny McManus! Be generous.

Then, turn that ketchup bottle upside down and just shake, squeeze, shake, squeeze, shake, squeeze until you've put a bunch in there.

Do not measure! Savvy?

Throw in a few or ten shakes of Tabasco and a dollop of mustard.

Repeat the ketchup performance, only use barbecue sauce. I use slightly less barbecue sauce than ketchup, but it's your preference.

Now it's time to get a very sturdy stirring implement -- I use a chunky wooden spoon -- and mix, mix, mix until all the meat is moistened and the various ingredients have mouth-wateringly merged.

If you have to tweak it for consistency and/or flavor, now is the time to do it. Be creative.

Once it's barbecue, just cover it and set the crock pot to whatever setting will get your masterpiece piping hot by serving time.

Lay out the buns and chips and soda pop, maybe some great big cookies for dessert, and it's a meal your family will not soon forget. As easy as it is delicious.

Which is why my son was keen to bring his buddies around for some of Mama's barbecue goodness and naturally, I was flattered all to pieces and couldn't wait to show off my culinary prowess.

So the date was set for the Saturday before their week in Savannah and I began making preparations.

Then the whole thing fell apart and they couldn't leave Knoxville on Saturday, so they traveled down on Sunday and of course we were at church and couldn't be on hand to serve barbecue at the right time.

They decided to stop in for barbecue on their way back to Knoxville the following Saturday.

Now, I don't know about you, but I think of lunchtime as twelve noon. I may be an unconventional cook but I know what time meals are served.

So imagine my chagrin when Andrew called on the Friday to tell me they'd be cut loose pretty early from the base the next morning, and they'd be arriving in Columbia at about ten fifteen.

You want to eat barbecue at ten fifteen in the morning? I was incredulous.

Andrew said maybe they'd just hang out for awhile and we could eat at eleven.

Okay. Once more I adjusted my thinking to accommodate the military.

That evening I put the pork in to cook, only I didn't get it in early enough and, because I'd bought a rather large loin, it wasn't done by the time I went to bed.

I got up at four o'clock the next morning to take it out of the crock pot for cooling. I fell back into bed and slept fitfully.

At seven thirty my phone made a noise. I looked at the screen. A text from Andrew: CALL ME.

I called him.

The Airmen were ahead of schedule. They'd left early; traffic was light. The United States Air Force would be on my doorstep between nine and nine thirty.

My head was spinning. Exactly how early in the day is it appropriate to serve pirate barbecue?

It's a question for the ages.

Quick like a little bunny I hopped to the kitchen. The pork was cool. I de-fatted, shredded, and sauced it.

There wasn't even time for coffee. There was barely time for a shower.

I was putting in my earrings, final-fluffing my hair, and checking my pirate eyeliner when I heard Andrew's truck drive up. I looked out the window. My driveway was swarming with three handsome Airmen and one Air ... woman!

And they came inside and, like they'd never eaten before, they consumed barbecue with great gusto while I carefully nursed my coffee. Apparently Airmen bellies do not consult clocks on walls when it comes time to eat.

I decorated special and everything. It was fun. The Air Force was very complimentary of my efforts.

Then off they went into the wild blue yonder, bound over the mountain to Knoxville, leaving my kitchen redolent of barbecue but empty and silent.

It was a short-lived but decisive invasion. A victory on the home front!

And a great privilege for me.

God bless America and God bless our troops.