The Richland Locker Midnight Meat Skillet on Cooking with Hank

2:30 A.M. RICHLAND LOCKER MIDNIGHT MEAT SKILLET

This recipe happens when the house is quiet, the fridge light feels judgmental, and your stomach starts hollerin like a coyote with opinions.

Ingredients

• 1 mystery steak or chop from Richland Locker
  If it’s wrapped in butcher paper and you don’t remember buying it, congratulations, that’s the good stuff.
• A thumb-sized hunk of butter or “close enough”
• Salt, pepper, or whatever shaker rattles when you shake it
• Optional extras
  Cheese slice, onion nub, leftover potatoes, or something pickled that scares polite people

Equipment

• One skillet that’s seen some things
• One spatula, fork, or pocketknife you trust
• Pajamas, boots optional

Directions

Step 1: The Sneak
Open the fridge real slow so it doesn’t wake the rest of the house. Pull out that Richland Locker meat like you’re handling a priceless artifact. Nod at it respectfully.

Step 2: Heat It Like You Mean It
Put the skillet on medium-high. Not low, not careful. Drop in the butter and wait until it sizzles and smells like bad decisions turning into good ones.

Step 3: Meat Meets Fire
Lay the steak or chop in the pan. It should sizzle loud enough to make you whisper, “Easy now.” Season it with confidence. This is not the time for measuring.

Step 4: The Flip of Destiny
Flip it when it looks browned and proud. If you flip it too early, pretend that was the plan. If you flip it too late, call it “extra flavor.”

Step 5: Midnight Add-Ons
Throw in anything nearby that looks lonely. Cheese goes on last so it melts real dramatic-like. If onions start caramelizing, act surprised.

Step 6: Eat Standing Up
Turn off the stove. Eat straight from the pan or off a paper towel. Plates are asleep at this hour.

Serving Suggestion

Serve with cold milk, leftover coffee, or whatever beverage was closest to the fridge door. Best enjoyed leaning on the counter, listening for floor creaks.

Hillbilly Wisdom

If it came from Richland Locker, it’s already halfway cooked by destiny. You just finished the job.

If you want, I can:

• Make this even more unhinged
• Write a radio-style version
• Do a “what NOT to do at 2:30 a.m.” sequel

---