A few years ago, my neighbor tried to make an oven roast but got distracted. It came out dry and tough—like eating a shoe. She was devastated. The next week, she made a pot roast with the same cut of meat, and it was so tender she cried. The moral? Know your tool. Pot roast forgives neglect; oven roast demands your love.
Honestly, you don’t have to pick sides. I keep a chuck roast in my freezer for pot roasts on lazy weekends, and a ribeye roast for holidays. It’s like having both a sweatpants mood and a cocktail-dress mood. They’re different, but both make you feel good.
