Okay I know I’ve said this so many times you’re probably sick of hearing it but I really do love food, and eating. As I say in my disclaimer at the bottom of each of my columns I’m not a chef and I lay no claim to being an expert on food.

But I am kind of an expert on blabbing on and on about it — especially after a couple glasses of wine.

“WOW, LOOK AT THIS!” I’ll exclaim when a plate full of great-looking food is placed before me in a restaurant. “This looks totally awesome and I’m starving to death,” I’ll say.

And if the food turns out to be as good as it looks I’ll probably continue to bore my dinner companions throughout the meal with things like, “This is SO good! How’s yours?”

I may be a little over-the-top when it comes to good food.

Oddly, as great as some of the meals are that I’ve had in restaurants lately, I do the same thing when eating dinner at home, alone. Though I don’t usually exclaim aloud. Scares the pets. I try to temper it to mmm-mm-mmm sounds.

I love my cooking. And it’s a lot cheaper than going out. I can get two bottles of cheap wine for what I’d pay for two glasses in a restaurant. (Actually with some of the wine I buy I could get three bottles. Not that I’d drink two or three bottles of wine in one sitting.) Plus I don’t have to leave myself a tip.

So anyway I know you’re dying to hear about what I had for dinner last night.

Okay. I picked up two pork chops at Hannaford. They were big and thick, and something like $4.50 for two. I love that. I got a container of Morse’s sauerkraut and some Yellow Gold potatoes. I’ve mentioned these before but you’ve probably forgotten. Slice them around a quarter-inch thick and throw them in a pan, dribbled with olive oil and some pink salt, and roast them for around 20 minutes at 400 until they turn golden on the top. I’m telling you they are SWEET. Just do it.

So I pan-fried one of the pork chops in a cast iron pan with a little olive oil and salt. (As I said, they were big, and for $4.50 I had two nights worth of dinners.) I browned it on both sides quickly, then turned down the heat and cooked it slowly for a while — maybe a half hour, turning between sips of a manhattan. Sometimes I’d take two or three sips between turns.

I’ll repeat this as many times as it takes: COOKING IS MORE FUN WITH A MANHATTAN. Or a martini, or a gin & tonic, or a glass of wine.

So by now the pan has acquired a nice coating of dark brown stuff. Pan drippings, whatever. Now take the pork chop out, ever so gently, (just kidding), throw it on a plate, and throw a big spoonful of sauerkraut in there. The sauerkraut will shrink due to the liquid cooking out of it, so don’t be cheap. When the pork chops are cheap you can go a little crazy with the sauerkraut. You’ll see why when you taste it after it has been cooked in the drippings. Trust me on this. It loses some of the sourness but retains the saltiness. Which reminds me — don’t go overboard with salt on the pork chop. Even a salt freak like me can overdo it.

Okay, now stir the sauerkraut around for a couple minutes, till it turns a tempting brown. Then take it out and throw the pork chop back in, throw the sauerkraut on top, and let it sizzle on low for a while. Pull up a stool and sip the manhattan and watch it sizzle. This seems like a lot of work for one lousy pork chop doesn’t it. Here’s the good news: If you’re cooking for two, or four, or even six, it won’t take any longer. Just use a bigger cast iron pan. And more pork chops, obviously.

So there was the pork chop with sauerkraut and the SWEET roasted yellow potatoes. Even on a prettily colored plate, like the purple and white one I used that night, there weren’t a lot of nice colors so far: Brown and yellow. Luckily I had some broccoli in the fridge. And I love broccoli — steamed for three minutes and dribbled with olive oil and sprinkled with garlic powder and salt.

So all this took me an hour to write, but it will only take you, like, a half hour to prepare. Except for the part about sitting and sipping while watching the pork chop and sauerkraut sizzle. That can be mesmerizing. Watch the time.

So the meal is on the pretty purple and white plate. It looks soooo good. And the dark green broccoli really sets it up a notch, artwise.

I have polished off the manhattan. And just so you know, I’m not an alcoholic. My manhattans contain one shot of whiskey or bourbon. One. So I’m not going to apologize for having a glass of wine with dinner. I’m a grownup. I live alone. I’ve earned the right.

And the only people watching are my two cats and my dog, and they don’t judge me. I can do nothing wrong by those three. They adore me.

It is so much easier living with pets than men. At least for me.

Probably best to not go there right now. This is a food column, after all.  I will say, though, that aside from one or two, most of the men I’ve had the fortune or misfortune to cohabitate with have appreciated my cooking. There was one though, my first husband, who had no appreciation for food whatsoever. He called most of the food I cooked a “gut filler.” Luckily he wasn’t around for too long.  He didn’t have much of a sense of humor either.

My dog appreciates my sense of humor, and loves making me laugh. He does this thing where he goes under my high bed and turns around and pokes his head out from under the bedskirt. Cracks me up every time.

See ya next week.

I’m not a chef. I lay no claim to being an authority on food or cooking. I’m a good cook, and a lover of good food. And I know how to spell and put a sentence together. This column is simply meant to be fun, and hopefully inspiring. So to anyone reading this whose hackles are raised because you know more about the subject of food than I, relax. I believe you. And always feel free to send an email with compliments to the non-chef at suzithayer@boothbayregister.com