“Do you like Mexican food Andrew?” my cousin asked me last night.
After a short pause, she continued, “What am I thinking? Of course you do.”
Anyone who follows me on Instagram or Facebook, or regular readers of my infrequent posts on here, knows I have a problem. Well, I have many problems. The principal issue I’m referring to is the love affair I have with comida Mexciana. Fresh salsas, gooey queso, crisp lechuga and succulent meats wrapped neatly in a warm tortilla. I assert there is no such thing as “bad” Mexican food. Perhaps I’ve had good luck in experimenting with different taquerias. Continue reading The Greatest Salad Ever Made in the History of Carb Avoidance
The other night I was at a fancy shamancy dinner and was chatting about best meals to cook with a date. This conversation was with a man in his 50s who identified himself as a trophy husband, a career goal not too far from my own. He asserted that French cuisine was the best, since Italian and Mexican are common flavors. The last thing I want is my high-achieving future wife to think I’m common.
While some of my friends take Sunday Funday to be brunch and boozing, for me it means culinary project day. Eventually, I’ll start planning the week’s meals. Once that occurs I can truly become someone’s doting house husband.
Sunday night’s supper (a word I’m bringing back) involved homemade salsa verde and spice-rubbed chicken breasts. The result: best tacos I’ve had this year. Bonus for you, it’s hella simple. We will have to wait to see how successful it is as wife bait.
Continue reading Gringo’s Confessions