By Chuck Martin
The Cincinnati Enquirer

OK, it's not that I really hate Crock-Pots - excuse me, slow cookers. It's just that I think slow-cooking takes much of the fun out of normal-speed, top-of-the-stove cooking. You know, the cooking that requires you to sear, simmer and season. I guess I just don't like the idea of turning my meal over to a squatty machine on the counter.

I also have bad memories of the first Crock-Pots back in the '70s, the avocado green ones with the daisy designs on the front. (Did those actually come with a free can of cream of mushroom soup?) Crock-Pots were in the same league as Watergate and the disco, as far as I'm concerned.

SAFETY TIPS

These slow cooker safety tips are from the U.S. Department of Agriculture's Meat and Poultry Hotline. For more information: (800) 535-4555 or Web site. • If you cut up meat and vegetables in advance for slow-cooking, store them separately in the refrigerator. Keep them refrigerated until ready to begin slow-cooking. • Cut food into chunks or small pieces to ensure thorough cooking. Do not use the slow cooker for large roasts or whole chickens. • Always defrost meat or poultry before putting it into a slow cooker. • Fill cooker no less than half full and no more than two-thirds full. • Keep slow cooker covered during cooking. • Vegetables cook more slowly than meat in a slow cooker, so put them in first, at the bottom and around the sides of the utensil. Then add meat and cover with food with water, broth or other liquid. • If possible, turn the cooker on the highest setting for the first hour of cooking, then to low or to the setting called for in the recipe. However, it is safe to cook foods on low for the entire time. • Refrigerate leftovers within two hours after cooking is finished. • Reheating leftovers in a slow cooker is not recommended. It's better to bring leftovers quickly to simmer on top of stove or in microwave, then put in a preheated slow cooker to keep warm for serving.

IF YOU GO

If you had to choose one, which of the following would be your favorite kitchen gadget? 33% Slow cooker 26% Food processor 23% Mixer 15% George Foreman Grill "The Way We Cook and Eat" Enquirer Reader Survey, October 2002 For its April, issue, the editors of Cook's Illustrated magazine tested five 6-quart slow cookers. Of the basic models, the editors rated the Farberware Millennium Slow Cooker ($39.99) and Rival Crock-Pot ($39.99) the best. They also liked the West Bend Versatility Cooker ($54.99) because its pot can be used on top of the stove, then moved to the slow cooker. The magazine tested the Rival Smart-Pot ($49.99), which allows you to select a specific time and heat setting, then it automatically shifts to warm when cooking time is up. But the editors decided this pot may not be worth the extra money because the food temperature had dropped only 10 degrees in an hour.

But guess what? My slow-cooker loathing puts me in a distinct minority. People young and old are cranking up Crock-Pots to braise meat and chicken, to simmer soups and stews. A 2002 survey commissioned by Betty Crocker shows that 81 percent of American households pack a slow-cooker. That's up from 76 percent in 1996.

No one can explain this recent surge in slow cookery. Maybe it's because many folks are too busy and tired to cook dinner the old-fashioned way every night. They need an eight-hour head start provided by a slow-cooker set on low.

And because times are tight, many have also probably discovered slow cookers are perfect for tenderizing cheaper, tougher cuts of meat.

One thing is clear: Unlike me, most of America doesn't think cooking at normal speed is always that much fun.

So, I went out to buy a slow cooker. After searching the aisles to make sure no other food snobs were lurking, I found a sleek machine in a decidedly un-1970s chrome color that cost $29 - about a half as much as the last state-of-the-art saucepan I purchased. Once I smuggled it home in a shopping bag, I devised a plan: To immerse myself in the convenience culture, I would cook five slow cooker meals in five days.

Then I would write about it.

The rules: I would slow-cook dishes that I (and hopefully, others) crave to eat - none of those lame recipes from the cookbook that comes with the Crock-Pot. I swore not to make anything that includes the word "mock'' in its name, as in "Mock Lasagna." Slow-cooker sloppy joes wouldn't measure up, either.

I wouldn't use salty bouillon cubes and certainly no canned "cream of anything" soup. For the most part, I would use fresh ingredients in my slow-cooking experiment - carrots, onions and garlic that require peeling, slicing and chopping.

You know, fun stuff.

Sunday

Beef stew sounds like the quintessential slow-cooker dish, so think I'll start there. To be different, I'll make mine curried beef stew.

A freakish snowstorm strikes, but, fortunately, I bought all the ingredients for the stew the day before. Except for curry powder. We're under a Level 3 Emergency in Warren County. Do I risk arrest to go to the store to buy curry powder? Don't think so.

Search the shelves and find an ancient bottle of Thai curry powder. Add it to the stew and boost its flavor with a hit of cumin, ground ginger and cayenne.

To give the beef better texture and flavor, I flour it and saute it in a pan before putting it in the pot. Maybe the flour will help thicken the stew.

Ironically, because we're socked in by the snow, this was the worst day to slow-cook for me. After putting the stew in, I watch bad TV, read, nap and then stir the stew about two dozen times. I'm bored.

After eight hours in the pot, I serve the stew over rice. Not bad. Beef is tender, and I've cut the potatoes and carrots into large enough chunks to stay firm enough during the long cooking. Probably shouldn't have dumped the entire package of frozen green peas in there, though. Good thing there are no picky kids.

Already feeling sure of myself, I decide to create my own slow cooker soup for Monday: Caramelized-Onion Potato. I'll caramelize the onions overnight. The soup will finish tomorrow.

Monday

Boy, nothing like the sweet smell of caramelized onions in the morning. They look great - dark brown, but not scorched. I peel and chunk potatoes for the pot, and add water. (This will be a no-meat soup.) Set the cooker on low and leave.

I bring the leftover beef stew to work and reheat it in a slow-cooker, which seems to take hours. My colleagues all make polite comments, but there is no rush for seconds. Maybe they don't like curry - or peas - as much as I do.

Don't believe I thought once about my onion-potato soup slow-cooking all day - until the drive home. Then I realize I'll get home 11 hours after I started the soup. Not eight hours, as I planned. When I arrive, the soup looks fine, although a little darker than I imagined. (Too many caramelized onions?)

Without chicken stock, the soup tastes flat, so after pureeing it with an immersion mixer (everyone should own one) I add salt, white pepper, a little cream and butter.

Much better. With a toasted cheese-covered crouton or just a sprinkling of Gruyere, the soup is pretty good. It's not a main dish kind of soup, but comforting and restorative. Soup you'd eat when you're sick or recovering from a late night out.

During TV commercials I begin preparing Tuesday's dish: A classic bistro dish called Poulet Basquaise - chicken with onions, peppers and ham. Traditionally, everything is sauteed. I'm going to quickly saute the chicken first, but throw the rest in the slow cooker the next morning.

This is ambitious. I have seen no slow-cooker recipes for Poulet Basquaise. I can hear those snooty French cooks cackling now.

Tuesday

So pleased I did all the prep the night before. I'm not a morning person.

At work, the folks again nod appreciatively while slurping the leftover onion-potato soup. Later, though, someone takes a shot at its interesting tawny-brown color.

An interview again prevents me from getting home from work on time. The Basquaise has cooked for 12 hours by the time I get there. Kitchen smells great - like roasting red peppers - but the stew has been on too long. The peppers and onions have withered away, making my bistro classic resemble rusty brown soup. It tastes fine over rice, though. But I wonder what it would've tasted like after cooking six hours instead of 12.

Now I realize another reason I've resisted slow-cooking, at least absentee slow-cooking. When I'm at home cooking on top of the stove or in the oven, I can watch and tweak the food. With slow-cooking, I'm leaving it up to the recipe and the machine.

Another thing: Am I the only one wondering what to do with the hot Crock-Pot lid? It messes up the counter when you put it down. But it's too hot to maneuver it over clean-side down. Someone should invent a hot Crock-Pot lid holder. Someone probably will.

For the next day's dish, I'm adapting a Paul Prudhomme recipe for jambalaya. I just hope he doesn't find out I made the Cajun stew in a slow cooker. I probably should saute the chicken in a pan first, to give it more texture and flavor. But I'm beat. Besides, am I defeating the spirit of slow-cooking by doing so much advance prep?

Wednesday

My fourth day of slow-cooking, and having doubts. Why try to make jambalaya in a Crock-Pot?

But I persevere. Did the Wright brothers question their mission at Kitty Hawk? Courage.

I throw the raw chicken into the pot with the chopped tomatoes, onions and other ingredients, and put my faith in the machine.

I don't bring in leftover Poulet Basquaise for the work crew, though. There's not much left, and, frankly, I'm tiring of the wisecracks.

Another long day. Get home 12 hours after turning on the slow cooker. Even outside the door, the smell of that familiar blend of peppers, onions, garlic and spices hits me. The cats meow excitedly. The jambalaya not only smells wonderful, it looks good. I add three cups of rice to thicken it, then a bag of frozen, already cooked cocktail shrimp.

It's not the real thing. Too soupy. But the flavor is fine, and even the chopped bell pepper is pleasantly crunchy. This may be my best adapted slow-cooker recipe so far.

I'm feeling more confident. But I don't want to risk over-cooking anything else, so I decide to slow-cook the final dish - a thick pasta sauce based on tomatoes and braised beef short ribs - overnight. This way, I'm sure I can cook it just as long as it needs. I will dare to cook five slow cooker meals in four days.

I roast the ribs in the oven to melt off some of the fat. The rest is easy - canned tomatoes, red wine, chopped onions, fennel and garlic. All in the pot.

Thursday

This morning, I turn the slow cooker off almost exactly eight hours after I started it Wednesday night. The ribs look wonderful sitting on top of the vegetables - brown and tender, not mushy. Better than I've cooked in the oven.

I fish out the ribs and puree the vegetables in the pot. I'll shred the beef into the sauce tonight.

The leftover jambalaya goes over pretty well at work, although one critic notes it looks a little thin.

That's OK. I made it in my new shiny Crock-Pot on autopilot. It cooked all day while I rushed around at work, and dinner was waiting for me that night.

When it works (and it doesn't work for everything), this slow-cooking thing isn't so bad. I'm coming around to the idea. Sometimes, especially during the week, I'll gladly take convenience over the fun of normal speed cooking.

Another thing: I'm not sharing that short-rib pasta sauce with my pals in the office. Yeah, keeping it all to myself.

Friday, they'll have to find lunch on their own.

E-mail cmartin@enquirer.com