I have a list of things I want to do. One of them is to cook every recipe in a cookbook so I’m working my way through Rick Bayless’ Everyday Mexican. I’ve eaten a lot of good stuff. This series is the record of those adventures.
There's been a lot of car trouble recently in the Perez household. Last week our Honda got hit while we were crossing an intersection and the week before that a biker slammed into our Prius. Fun stuff. The pioneer problem of the car catastrophes was our loyal little 97 Ford Thunderbird giving up the ghost.
While I was expecting the Thunderbird to die at some point, it was still a confusion when it happened. Even more confusing? Trying to haul two people to work and one child to daycare in different directions with one car. For a week I was staying at work for ridiculously long days and Arnold was busting out a two hour commute. It sucked and it would've sucked more if my friend hadn't called me a week into the car crisis and said:
"Do you want to go out for dessert tonight? Oh, and by the way I thought beforehand I could drop off my car so you could just borrow it until you can buy a new one. Anyways, let me know what time is good."
I don't have words for the kindness the people in our life constantly shower on us. There are so many who don't have someone to call to request a favor while we are spoiled with people who see our needs and take care of them before we even wrapped our heads around the problem. It's pretty amazing.
We didn't end up going out for dessert that week but I did have the opportunity to make her and her sister some pollo pulquero. It was a solid, little dish: simple and hearty, it's named after the workers who harvest pulque for tequila. There was nothing wrong with that dish, but that night sitting out on the deck I wished that it was something more. I wanted it to be extraordinarily delicious as if chicken could somehow re-pay the kindness the people we love lavish on us. It's a silly notion, there is nothing to do with kindness except to say thank you and give it back as freely as you can to everyone you know yet somehow I still feel that somehow I can return the favor with food.
Maybe I need to start investing time in a chocolate-based cookbook project?