Make Your Heartbreak Into Tacos

If you live in Houston, which you don't, perhaps you are familiar with Escalante's. It is a "fine Tex-Mex" restaurant. From what I can tell, "fine Tex-Mex" basically means tacos and enchiladas, except with slightly fancier ingredients and presentation. Also, margaritas made with expensive tequila.

If I lived in Houston, which I don't, I would have an entirely unhealthy relationship with Escalante's. As it is, I demand to eat there at least once (I said at least) every time I visit. The worst part is, I have only ever tried one thing on their menu, and it is a salad. But it is the only salad I'll ever need for as long as I live.

Let me tell you about this salad. First, we have a bed of romaine lettuce, tossed in mango chipotle vinaigrette. I can see I've already got your attention. Greens are unimportant, though, they are merely a vehicle for deliciousness delivery. Next, we have avocado. So rich and creamy. Followed by the sweetness of fresh mango. Too sweet, you say? That's where the sliced red pepper comes in, to give it a kick. But where's the meat? Oh, I didn't mention? This thing is covered in shrimp ceviche, baby. It's true. Fresh shrimp, cold-cooked in lime juice until they're little maritime packages of zing, exploding in your mouth with citrus flavor. And finally, the coup de grace - a walnut-encrusted warm goat cheese medallion.

Is my love for this salad making you uncomfortable? Well it doesn't matter, because there is no Escalante's in North Carolina. It's OK, though, because what do we do when we can't have our favorite salad? That's right, scouts, we make it into tacos. Which is why I tried to make shrimp ceviche tacos last week. And now I'm going to tell you about it.

As I mentioned, shrimp ceviche is just shrimp, chilled and marinated in lime juice until the acid from the juice cooks the shrimp. I wasn't sure how many limes it would take to make enough juice to cover shrimp, so I bought several fresh limes, and some prepackaged lime juice (Flavored with extra chemicals!) just in case. I decided to only 'cevich' like 6 shrimp to start with, because I am but one person, and also I didn't want to ruin all of my high-quality frozen Target shrimp at once.


Turns out, though, that even just 6 shrimp require a lot of lime juice in order to cover them completely (which you must), so I decided to go with the fake lime juice. Spoiler alert, this was a mistake.

It's real because it's green!

The ever-overwhelming internet gave me wildly conflicting times regarding the length of time that shrimp must marinate before it is fully cevich-ed. The longest time I saw listed was 24 hours, so I got all responsible and proactive and prepared them the night before I really wanted to eat them. (That is a lie. I wanted to eat them right away.)

Because my shrimp were poorly covered, I had to check on them periodically and flip them over. It was fun, like tending a little garden. A seafood garden. That is ready to harvest within 24 hours. The next night, I excitedly pulled them out of the refrigerator, and removed their tails. (I do not know why I didn't do that sooner. I could have used less juice!)


The outsides looked pink and cooked, but I was suddenly less than confident in my ability to cook shrimp with nothing more than limes and enthusiasm, so I cut a few open. Sadly, they looked a little gray and raw on the inside. (There is no photo of the raw insides, because of lime fingers.) I tasted a piece of one shrimp as an experiment, and briefly considered the benefits of food poisoning, since I was pretty stressed out last week and would also still like to lose those extra pounds.

It was upon tasting them that I realized the fake lime juice was a mistake. Or maybe it was the 24 hours of marination. In any case, fake lime juice is concentrated, so instead of the fresh burst of citrus I expected, I was faced with overwhelming limeade flavor. It tasted like those commercials where the cheese scientists shove a giant wheel of cheese into a single Cheez-it, except in this case someone shoved a whole package of powdered lemon Kool-Aid into a single shrimp.

In any case, I'd come this far, and I wasn't about to walk away now. I decided against attempting to food-poison myself, so I had no choice but to just microwave the damn things for a few seconds. They came out fully cooked, and no less worse for the wear, in spite of being far less classy and French than originally intended. Whatever, limeade-infused hillbilly microwave shrimp, just get in my tacos. And subsequently in my belly.

Garnish!
(Red pepper, onion, and avocado)

Speaking of things that are classy, mangoes! They seem expensive, right? So instead I bought pineapple mango salsa from Whole Foods. It still cost me $95 for a small container, but at least someone did me the favor of cutting it all up, which has got to be worth at least $70.

Mmm... hundred-dollar fruit cubes.

This stuff is tongue magic, by the way, and it has taken quite a bit of self-control not to just eat the whole tub at once with a spoon.


I assembled the shrimp, veggies, and fruit salsa on fresh corn tortillas I made by hand, using corn from my own organic garden. (Heh.) The looked downright delicious, sitting there. You could barely tell by looking at them that the shrimp were radioactive. And yet there still seemed to be something missing...

Ooohhhh yeah.

Once I added some spicy sriracha sauce to my tacos, I was finally able to sit down and enjoy them. They were actually pretty good, and they only tasted a little bit like confusion and desperation.

P.S. I was halfway through eating the tacos before I remembered I had also purchased goat cheese (to replicate the salad, remember? from the top of this post? like, 3 years ago?). I made them again later, but instead of ceviching, I just sauteed the shrimp in butter and squeezed some fresh lime juice over them later. And I remembered to add a dab of goat cheese. It's no Escaviche Salad from Escalante's, but I'd be willing to eat it every day for the next 3 years or so.

P.P.S. Just to make sure we all learned something here... If you're going to make shrimp ceviche: 1) cut the shrimp into pieces first, and 2) use fresh lime juice.

Netflix and Milkshakes, What More Do We Need?

Since I've missed another day, I guess we might as well let go of the pretense that I'm going to post every day this month. So, uh... welcome to NaBloPoMo 2.0, wherein I post most days in July!

I don't really have an excuse for not posting, but I will tell you that last night I made hamburgers for the first time ever, so clearly that occupied a good deal of my time and concentration. They included ground beef, garlic powder, salt, pepper, and most importantly, shredded mozzerella cheese. They were effing delicious. Since we don't have easy access to a grill here at Lee's place, I had to cook them in pan on the stove, but I'd say they turned out pretty well anyway. I would have taken a picture to share with you, but I was too busy eating them and drinking beer.

Today I didn't accomplish much of note, but I did finally try to run again. I went 4 very slow miles on the treadmill, and I didn't die. My right hamstring is still bothering me, but I think I'll survive. Depending on how I feel, I might make another attempt at running 7 miles on Sunday. Cross your fingers for me!

Tonight I'm trying to see how many different un-Lee things I can talk Lee into watching on Netflix. Thus far I've succeeded in getting him to watch (and more or less enjoy) comedy specials by Craig Ferguson and Janeane Garafalo, and the first episode of the 1980s Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy miniseries. (I should confess that I failed to sell him on the merits of Toddlers & Tiaras*.) (SO FAR.) To top it all off, I think we're going to go get milkshakes soon!

That's really all I have to share with you so far, but there are some fun things coming up this weekend, so I should have stories for you later.

*For now, I leave you with this:

A Japanese Vampire Party, Just As God Intended

This evening, I ran farther than I've ever run in my life! Five miles! I'm sure that sometime during the next 3 months of training the novelty of setting new records will wear off, but for now I think it's cause for celebration.

How am I celebrating? Well I'm glad you asked!



So to recap: run 5 miles, spend $50. I think maybe after I finish running the race, I'll buy a car.

It's So Hard To Be Good

Lately I've been trying really hard not to waste food, not to eat so much junk food, and not to eat out so often. So far, I've been pretty pleased with myself. I've been going to the grocery store often enough that I don't have to subsist off crackers and cereal, and I've been saving money by not eating out as often and also by coming up with creative ways to make sure I use all of the groceries I buy.

For instance: Awhile back I had to buy eggs for something, and I ended up with 4 eggs just sitting in my refrigerator for weeks on end. Now that I'm trying to be more conscientious about food and groceries, I was determined to put them to good use before they went bad. I had already resigned myself to an unorthodox meal of scrambled eggs some disappointing Tuesday evening, so I felt like a genius when I came up with the idea of hard-boiling them and putting them on a salad instead.

So it was that today, I hard-boiled eggs for the first time. Since I don't work on Fridays this summer, the extent of my plans for the day were to sleep in, boil some eggs, and run 3 miles. I was a little apprehensive about the eggs because technically they're a week past their official expiration date, but I was emboldened by the results of a recent experiment with slightly expired yogurt. At any rate, I googled "how to boil eggs" and followed the instructions faithfully. While they cooked, I prepared the rest of my salad (which was sexy as hell, I wish I'd taken pictures), and then I very carefully selected a test egg to peel.

I have to pause here for a tangent. When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was Charlotte's Web. There's a scene in Charlotte's Web where Templeton, the sketchy rat, takes one of the unhatched goose eggs down into his lair, because he's weird, and also possibly wanted to do sexual things with it. Anyway, all the farm animals forget about Templeton and the egg for a really long time until one day some kind of barnyard mayhem goes down and the egg - now WAY past its expiration date - gets broken and stinks up the place. As a child, I knew it must smell truly awful if even barnyard animals were offended by it, thus for as long as I can remember I've been extremely wary of potentially rotten eggs.

With all of this in mind, I delicately peeled and cut up my egg, fully prepared at any moment for it to explode like a foul grenade and totally ruin my day. Luckily it looked (and smelled) just like any other hard-boiled egg, so I went ahead and put it on my salad and ate it, and it was delicious, and all was right with the world.

A few hours later, it was time to head out and run. I was a little hungry, salad notwithstanding, but I decided to just wait until I got back to eat anything. After schlepping for 3 miles in the 80-degree weather, I came back and drank 8 gallons of water and had an apple to hold me over until I cooked dinner. As I sat on the couch cooling off, however, something not good started to happen. I had a confusing feeling that I might pass out or vomit or die, or all three at once. And then suddenly, with only just enough warning to get myself to the appropriate location, I violently ejected my salad (along with my carefully-prepared egg) back out the way it came.

I tell you all this not to disgust you (hope you weren't eating anything, by the way), but to ask you this question... Does this mean that I should throw out the rest of those eggs, just in case?

A Post-Christmas Reflection

For the record, this is my favorite Christmas treat:



For the uninitiated, this is a form of Chex Mix made by coating Chex cereal in a melted chocolate and peanut butter concoction and then tossing them in powdered sugar. Street names include 'puppy chow' and 'muddy buddies.' It may not look like much, but it is a nearly ideal chocolate-and-peanut-butter delivery system. The primary ingredient in this recipe is 9 kinds of sugar, and the only part that isn't sugar is essentially air, with a little bit of crunch. This shit is fantastic. I have probably gained 10 lbs since I have been home for the holidays and I don't even care, as long as I have my life-affirming sugar.

This brings me to the broader topic of desserts in general. Let me explain to you, briefly, the purpose of dessert. The purpose of dessert is to provide a way to eat sugar that is slightly more civil than just dumping spoonfuls of it right into your mouth. This is why there is absolutely NO REASON to add fruits (or God forbid, vegetables) to a dessert dish. Technically, yes, fruit is mostly sugar. But it's an inefficient form of sugar. What you really need in a dessert is the purest form of sugar you can get your hands on. That's why its called refined sugar. You can't use oil to run your car until it's been refined, and you're not getting the most out of your sugar until you do the same to it. Adding fruit to your dessert just dilutes its potency. When you want to get drunk, you drink the strongest liquor you can find; when eat dessert, you should eat something that's 99.9% sugar. Save the fruit for breakfast.

I hope you had a Merry, fruit-free Christmas [and/or holiday of your choice].

I Think It's Obvious That I'm The Real Victim Here

Bailiff: Docket #4598-3A, The State vs. Leftover Chocolate Frosting, the Honorable Creamsicle McNichol presiding!

Judge: Alright everyone, settle down. This is obviously a very unusual case, so I'd like to hear from the representative for the state, first. Counselor, why have you brought this prisoner here today?

DA(??): Your honor, the state is concerned about this prisoner's presence here within our borders, and we'd like to have him moved to another facility as soon as possible. We have no way of knowing how much longer he'll be in the Refrigerator, and we consider his impending release into The Apartment to be a public safety risk.

Judge: I see. Mr. Frosting, I see you're representing yourself today? What do you have to say for yourself?

Leftover Chocolate Frosting: Well, your honor, I don't see how this is fair, bein as how I'm just a product of my upbringing. I was brought into The Apartment when I was just a little guy, still wearing hardly nothin but my vacuum-sealed foil top. Only reason I'm even in this mess is cuz I'm a victim of circumstances, ya know? I had a job, and I was doin it real well, but then the cupcakes ran out and I was out on my ass -

Judge: Watch it, Mr. Frosting!

LCF: Yes'm, I'm sorry, I don't mean no disrespect. What I mean to say is, my only crime is having too much to give, really. Once I'm out the Refrigerator, I'd love to get me a good job doin what God intended, but who's gonna want me? At my age, I only got enough left in me to cover maybe half a dozen cupcakes or the corner of a birthday cake. These days, bakers are lookin for somebody younger, full to the brim with potential, even you people gotta be able to see that. So, when I get out, I'll try to stay legit, but if I can't, I'm not just gonna go straight to the Garbage, no ma'am.

DA: Your Honor, I think it's obvious what Mr. Frosting is trying to say here! There's no doubt that once he's released into The Apartment, he intends to become engaged in criminal activities! It is CLEAR -

LCF: That ain't true! I can't help what I am!

DA: - Your Honor, it is obvious that he intends nothing less than to work his way, spoonful by illicit spoonful, onto the hips and thighs of the constituency of this great state!

Judge: ORDER! Gentlemen, if you cannot control your tempers, I will find you both in contempt of this court!

LCF: I apologize, Your Honor, but I can't sit by and let this man just throw me in the Garbage when it's the system that has failed, not me!

DA: Your Honor, the state does not necessarily propose that the Garbage is the right place for this man, only that he can no longer remain in the Refrigerator of this Apartment. It is the state's responsibility to balance individuals' rights against the best interest of society as a whole, and it is clear to us that if Mr. Frosting is allowed to remain here he poses a serious risk to the health of The Apartment's residents.

Judge: I'll kindly ask you not to lecture me about the state's responsibility, Counselor. I went to law school as well, you know. Mr. Frosting, how do you propose to reassure the state regarding your good intentions? What steps have you taken to ensure that you will be properly employed once you are released from the Refrigerator, and not just eaten straight from the can with a spoon?

LCF: Well, Your Honor, I - AAAAAHHHH! WHAT IS THAT?!?

The Author: Enough of this talk! OM NOM NOM NOM.

LCF: IT HURTS! IT HURTS! MAMA, I'M COMIN HOME!!

Judge: OH THE HUMANITY!

LCF: AAAAAUUUUUGHHHHHH NOOOOOOOO MY CHOCOLATEY INSIDES

DA: *sigh.* I told you this would happen. I'm going home.

The Author: Yum.