Things I think I think

Now that I’ve had my fill of ranting for a while here, it’s time to catch up on some thing that have been floating around in my brain and make some room up there for future ramblings.

thumbnail_IMG_0599Have you ever tried to grow a tree from an avocado pit? Let me rephrase that, have you never tried to grow a tree from an avocado pit? I think that’s required in “Things to do in your first adult kitchen 101.” I tried and sort of even succeeded. Sort of. For a while I had an actual tree. It stood about 5 feet tall but was only as big around as a school pencil. Unfortunately, not quite as sturdy. My latest experiment was “let’s grow a pineapple plant from the crown of one.” (The things we did while locked in.) A year later I have not just one, but two.  I wonder if this is how Dole got started.

I recently ranted over the increasing number of loaded guns brought to airport security. The most common excuse for such behavior was “Duh, I forgets I was packing a rod.” I found a story about another feller who forgot he was carrying a loaded weapon. This guy brought his gun not the airport but to his bathroom. As he dropped his pants to drop into the seat, the gun dropped out of his pocket into the floor and went off, sending the bullet through the bathroom floor which doubled as the bathroom ceiling to the apartment below where it met the hand of another young man, unarmed but now not unharmed. You can’t blame the gun guy. There have been alligator sightings in the area and you never know when one might pop up anywhere there is water. (My conjecture, not his explanation. He said he forgot it was in his pocket. Yeah, right.)

Service with aAre there any grandfather clock aficionado out there? I have a contemporary long case that has travelled with me now through three homes and resided in multiple places at each. The years have been kinder to the case than the movement. It is still in great shape, shapewise, but it runs late. Not slow. Late. It keeps a 60 minute hour today as good as the day it was uncrated but little by little it has developed its unique peculiarity of chiming the hour late. We’re now up to 5 minutes late. It’s not unusual for a guest when hearing the chime to comment, “Oh it’s x o’clock, no wait, I have 5 after. Your clock is slow,” and I respond, “No, it’s not slow, it’s late.” It has taken 20 years for the chime to be out of sync by 5 minutes. (Out of synch?) An optimist would note that in another 220 years, it will work its way around and be right on time.

Just two rants ago I questioned what could be more valuable than your own child in response to Consumers Union’s suggestion that until all manufacturers put warning devices to alert to unforgotten children locked in the back of hot cars, one should put something of value there that you would not likely forget. For one young father around here last week, that should have been tacos. Apparently, the good lad had a hankering for tacos. Not just any tacos, he wanted the kind available only at the local casino. There he parked his car, left his children behind just to run in and place the order, then decided he might as well wait for that order sitting in front of a slot machine instead of in front of his steering wheel. Security cameras caught his elation at hitting a jackpot about the same time they caught his kids waiting alone in the car. No word on how long the tacos were waiting.

Okay, sharp witted readers may have inferred that I implied this post might be rant-free, yet 50% was rant-like. Let’s call it rank-lite. Hey, I’m making progress!

It’s Taco Thursday!

Yes, I am quite aware that the entire rest of the world recognizes Taco Tuesday. But I post only on Monday and Thursday and Taco Monday sounds stupid even though I’m just as apt to eat a taco on a Monday as a Thursday or any other day of the week.

In fact, that’s the point of today’s post. And you thought this was going to be pointless like all the others. The point is I’m worrying myself a bit. I seem to have fallen into a taco trough. (That’s sort of like a taco rut but more alliterative.)  I really am apt to have a taco any day of the week and any time of any day. And not just tacos. Toss into that mix burritos, fajitas, and enchiladas, just about anything with meat and cheese in a tortilla and you have my diet from the past couple of weeks.

Lately I’ve had a lot of appointments and trying to do as much as I can around the house. For me that means I’m working sometimes up to two, maybe three hours a day. (I tire easily.) Standing in front of a stove isn’t on the list. Nor is on the list standing in front of the counter prepping something to go into the oven. A sandwich is quite doable, but who wants a steady diet of sandwiches? Thus, the taco. As quick as the sandwich but certainly more fun. And just as versatile.

Over the past week I’ve had a couple of breakfast burritos with scrambled eggs, sausage, peppers and onions, and tomatoes in a flour tortilla. I had a quick lunch of ham and cheese quesadilla, a fajita made from thinly sliced flank steak that I originally was going to use in a cheesesteak, grilled peppers and onions, some provolone cheese, and some tomato slices. I made a dinner of a soft corn tortilla with leftover pot roast and caramelized onions, cheddar cheese, Boston lettuce, and a splash of hot sauce. I even had a more traditional taco dinner with seasoned ground beef, jack cheese, lettuce, red onions, green peppers, and black olives.

All of that and there’s not a drop of Hispanic blood in me unless I got some during a transfusion. Still, the adaptable wraps of the southwest have been far outpacing my ingrained Italian cooking. This weekend I may have to make lasagna to re-center my chakra. Or maybe I’ll do layers of spiced chicken, cheese, and flour tortillas in an enchilada casserole instead. That’s pretty lasagna-like, don’t you think?

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?