Weird dreams last night. More like this morning, actually. Four straight days of red and green chile will do that to you.
Herself got up at 3:30 for some reason. I made the usual profane inquiries without achieving enlightenment and soon drifted back into a troubled sleep.
I found myself in our old place in Bibleburg and there were bugs crawling everywhere. Great big gnarly muthas that went sploosh if you stomped ’em. Real sandal-soakers.
Don’t suppose we need to engage a brain mechanic to explain that one.
Behold Exchequer, given to me by the Lady of the Other Home Office, on the condition that I fulfill any request she might make, the first and foremost of these being that I not use this magical weapon to acquire any more expensive, useless bullshit, f’chrissakes, can you do that for me, hon’? Pretty please?
Another Black Friday passeth without my being compelled by bitter circumstance and/or simple covetousness to draw the mighty card, Exchequer, from its ripstop scabbard. The realm remains unencumbered by debt and grails.
If the image appears a tad blurry it’s because pretty much everything out there is in vigorous motion.
Well, it’s not what I would call black, but then neither is it exactly a bright, bright, sunshiny Friday out there.
We are presently enjoying a thundering east wind that is extreme even by New Mexican standards, and as a consequence the options for working off yesterday’s holiday feast seem limited.
What a fine day for huddling indoors and bargain-hunting at a Bug®-safe distance! Coincidentally, my in-box runneth over with various pitches, entreaties, and pleas. A cantankerous senior citizen on a fixed income is a target demographic? Who knew?
B&H Photo & Video, for starters. They were first to pound on my digital door, at 4:18 a.m. The early bird catches the worm, don’t you know. They were followed in quick succession by Guitar Center, Brydge, Rudy Project, Brazos Walking Sticks, GoPro, Gore Wear, and Outdoor Research, all before 8 a.m.
And this is just the lot that made it past my extensive network of junk filters, mind you.
They sense my frailty. Every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker, and every minute some marketing poge gets a click-through from his email blast, he gets stronger. Each time I look around the walls move in a little tighter. …
Did the Pilgrims bring the avocado toast? Seems unlikely. Hipsters those dudes were not.
And so it begins, with a simple dish so dear to the hipster heart — the avocado toast.
Things will grow progressively more complex as Thanksgiving plods along. I got behind in my pre-holiday cookery thanks to an overlong bike ride and a phone chat with my sister and brother-in-law, and today, as usual, I will be trying to chase back on.
I did manage to make a pot of green chile stew and the red chile sauce for my turkey enchiladas. But I never got around to preparing the filling for the latter, and so last night’s dinner was leftover pizza instead of tacos because the pico de gallo and arroz verde never made it off the bench and onto the field.
This morning I’m thinking about calling an audible on that play and going with turkey enchiladas smothered in red chile, with sides of green chile stew, stir-fried succotash, and a green salad prepared by Herself.
But it’s not even 8 a.m. yet. I might yet do the salsa and rice and get those tacos into the game.
In the meantime, a happy, healthy holiday feast to thee and thine. And while we wait to begin the graceful dance of fork and knife across the plate, let’s look in on Alice and Arlo at the restaurant.
At long last, dinner: turkey enchiladas smothered in red chile with sides of arroz verde, pintos in chipotle, and a little arugula and tomato for roughage. The green chile stew (not pictured) turned into lunch because cooking is hungry work. The pico de gallo, with blue corn chips, turned into am afternoon snack during the final stretch of cookery.
Looks dire, but it wasn’t. Lots better than being indoors.
Yesterday I noticed a neighbor marching around her back yard, doing laps NASCAR-style.
A fine COVID-safe practice, this. And a great way to stay out of the wind. Still, dull as daytime TV.
My dusty Merrell Moab 2 Mid Ventilators were just the ticket for a stove-up old stove wrangler.
Herself bundled up and went for a run. I was still enjoying the consequences of a four-mile run on Friday (the ankle said I overdid it).
And knowing that I’d be spending a lot of time on my feet preparing Thanksgiving dinner, because I am an eejit who will cook elaborately for two people to no particular purpose, I decided to take a short hike instead. Wearing boots, not running shoes.
The menu kept revising itself as I walked. My initial impulse — turkey burritos smothered in the Santa Fe School of Cooking’s green chile with a side of Tejal Rao’s arroz verde — felt a tad minimalist upon reflection.
What about turkey enchiladas smothered in red chile with sides of green chile stew and Martha Rose Shulman’s stir-fried succotash? If I made the enchilada filling the day before Thanksgiving, I thought, I could use a bit of it for tacos Wednesday night, which would give me an excuse to whip up a nice pico de gallo and the green rice.
I could also do the stew in advance, because it gets even better the next day. The red sauce, too.
Shoot, Turkey Day is starting to look like a walk in the park. Today, however, may be more like a four-mile run on a bum ankle.
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