THE BLUE MEXICAN TACO
Waking up from a warm dog-snuggling hammock to 12F weather and new snow, I was started dreaming of somewhere sunny and warm. So I turned on my Coleman stove and started making tortillas to warm the vehicle.
Made by efficient GSI Outdoors cookware. #GSICooking
– Makes at least 1 dozen tacos.
– Leftover agave, mango, tomato, arugula and lemon makes a reasonable salsa. (Ho! Something for the vegan!)
Herb Du Provence
Hand-Made Artisan Tortillas (always the best)
Toss oil, cheeses, herbs, and lemon in a container.
Spoon a glob onto the saucepan and spread while it melts for a second.
Toss the tortilla on top. Apply to the other side as well.
THE VERBOTEN CONTENTS
10oz Blueberry Chevre
Bottle of White Zinfandel
1 Sliced Mango
1 Diced Tomato
Toss the chicken into the saucepan with a ton of garlic, white zinfandel, and bit of agave.
Cover most of the way. On a cool note, the GSI Saucepan top has holes for some steam to escape, and the chicken stays super soft.
Shred said chicken on cutting board and put back in pan.
Dice tomato, put in tupperware.
Slice mango in long chunks, put in tupperware.
Put it together on the tortilla, and eat in a hammock while snuggled up with a dog, dreaming moodily of Mexico while it blizzards outside.
Put the rest in aluminum singles, and bring this to a friend’s house, complimented with wine and dog therapy.
My substitute teacher in Microeconomics was named “MR. P”. He loved Arabic, could beatbox, and when a boy with turrets in our class walked outside and was kicking and swearing at a tree to the bewilderment of a passing teacher (who he took a moment to register and call a bitch) our dear teacher told us, his hands in his pockets and quietly taking in his runaway student, “You know…life is sometimes like a movie.”
I’ve been finding that we all have stories, we just get dragged down in the details and stress to realize what’s actually going on is a great reel of miniature stories that only the present persons can appreciate and tell as their own tale.
Yesterday I stopped by the Salvation Army to drop off some space-eating items in my van. (Short list: the asbestos-laden insulation that had been kicked and beaten to death in storage for two months; the $100 Jasmine guitar my mom bought for my first music class; some clothes items.) The workers were around my age, with hairstyles like hipsters, and one imparted to me that he also lived in a van. Done, as I was jumping in the cab with Dog to peel off and climb, a truck pulled up behind mine in the Drop Off area. The two workers began pulling out treasures and I blurted, unable to stop myself, now that I’ve become so impulsive, from asking: “Is that a SWORD?”
“Do you want it? Granted Gary here doesn’t want it…no, Gary? Alright, it’s yours.”
Due to the katana’s dangerous properties I will not disclose it’s location in the van. And I don’t ever intend to use it. But it arrived wrapped in a story, and I enjoyed my asbestos-for-steel trade yesterday.
Sometimes life is like a story.
Though not significant to write here, I intend from now on to share these great short stories and possibly the older ones that I’ve told only my close friends. It’s a great exercise, and a few people have told me they enjoy reading my stories. So I will pile on the words, the stories, and the photos and videos for those few who enjoy them.