Sink o’ de mayo

May 6, 2026 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 3 Comments

Yesterday being Cinco de Mayo I made the usual magic in the kitchen — guacamole and Lazy Gringo Posole.

This is not exactly a forced march through The New York Times Cooking section. You th’ow the ingredients for the first into a bowl and mash ’em up, and you th’ow the ingredients for the second into a pot and simmer ’em up.

One more day on the counter and this avocado would’ve been a goner.

Shit, a Republican could do it, if someone kept an eye on him to make sure he didn’t stick his dingus into the grub or try to bomb it onto the table. You know how those guys cook.

Soups and stews were among the first dishes I learned how to cook, and when the sloth has got me with a downhill pull I will fall back on them at the drop of a chef’s toque and drop the fucker myself.

The posole takes two hours to cook and about no time at all to prep. I toss three cloves of garlic into a small food processor for a quick, coarse chop. Next I add four or five dried red chile pods, seeded, and a large yellow onion, chopped into chunks the processor can swallow. Zoom, another round of push-button chopping. Toss the results into a 6-quart pot.

Drain and rinse a 25-ounce can of white hominy and add that to the pot. You can do the whole dried-hominy thing if you like, but I told you I was lazy. Add a pound and a half of pork or boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1-inch bits, two teaspoons of Mexican oregano and one of ground cumin, salt to taste, and 6-7 cups of water. Bring to a boil, lower to a simmer, and go watch the hummingbirds for a couple of hours, returning to the pot now and then to give ’er a stir.

The guac’ is even easier. To a bowl add one large avocado, a light drizzle of fresh lime juice, a couple-three teaspoons of finely chopped tomato (optional), a smidge of minced white onion if you like it (Herself does not), and salt to taste. Mash with fork, leaving it a little chunky just ’cause. Serve with corn chips.

You want some nice warm flour tortillas for the posole, along with some class of crunchy garnishes — minced jalapeños, chopped radishes, green onions — and a scattering of cilantro. Watch the BBC’s “Lord of the Flies” on Netflix as you dine and be glad you’re not a castaway kid trying to get that pig in the pot you don’t have.

Price capades

March 15, 2026March 15, 2026 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 18 Comments

While making a smallish grocery run today I snatched up a can of Juanita’s Mexican Style Hominy, which I like to have in the pantry in case I find myself in a mood for a pot of posole, prepared in lazy gabacho fashion.

But it didn’t look quite right. … and it wasn’t.

These suckers used to be 30 ounces. Now they’re 25. Last March 15, a can cost $2.99. Today, it cost $3.79. For 5 ounces less hominy.

Hmmm. Whatever could’ve happened? Wait for it. …

From foodnewswire.com, dated May 2, 2025

Apex Capital, a private equity firm focused on investing in the consumer sector across the Americas, is pleased to announce the acquisition of a majority stake in Juanita’s Foods, a leading producer of authentic Mexican food products in the United States.

Maybe this is why Juanita’s has been tough to find lately. For the last pot of posole I made I used canned white hominy from Goya Foods, whose CEO is a big fan of the pinche pendejo Charlie Pierce calls “El Caudillo del Mar-a-Lago.” The boss-fella’s breath may have a whiff of ass to it — ¿quien sabe? — but it was a 29-ounce can and it only cost $3.69.

In any event, while I can’t say for sure exactly when it happened, it sure seems like these capitalistas carroñeros from Apex Capital have done slipped the pork to my posole via shrinkflation.

Leaf me be

November 17, 2025 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 10 Comments

Autumn remains delightful, if you avert your eyes from the nation’s capital.

I’ve been mixing things up a bit. For openers: riding my way through The Fleet. Six different bikes in a week, including the Rivendell Sam Hillborne, pictured Saturday on the Paseo de las Montañas Trail.

I’m also riding different routes, or old ones backasswards. More dirt, with the mango Steelman Eurocross yesterday and the red one today. Yeah, I know, embarrassment of riches and all that.

Off the bike, I’ve been revisiting neglected recipes, like pasta al cavolfiore from the “Moosewood Cookbook.” You want to add maybe a half teaspoon of a good ground red chile to the tomato puree for that one.

Another old fave — a conventional eggs-and-taters breakfast, generally reserved for Sunday — makes a nice change from the boring old oatmeal or yogurt. For Monday’s lunch, I’ll scramble a couple more eggs and dump them, any leftover spuds, a small handful of arugula, a scattering of diced tomato, and a sprinkle of sharpish cheddar, atop warm flour tortillas. Fold and eat.

If the spuds didn’t survive Sunday maybe I’ll whip up the makings for a classic tuna salad sammich a la Craig Claiborne. I leave out the red onions because Herself hates uncooked onions, and the capers because I hate capers. Instead I add some chopped bread-and-butter pickle chips, because we can both agree on those. Haven’t added any minced jalapeño yet, but I can see it happening. Possibly tomorrow. You can’t stop me!

Rooting through my recipe binder the other day I stumbled across one I’d gone to the trouble of printing, but couldn’t recall ever actually cooking. It’s a Greek stew, from Sarah DiGregorio, and once I started putting it together it came back to me. Why did I only cook it the one time? Very easy, very good, even better the next day, and nicely suited to the cooler weather.

But then, the basic posole I’m making as we speak is even easier, and like Sarah’s stew, improves with age. It takes about five minutes of prep and two hours of simmering. Even the Irish can manage it.

Meanwhile, I’m leaving our Halloween lights up for Thanksgiving. Take that, turkeys!

Phone home

September 9, 2025September 9, 2025 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments

Full moon? Two consecutive days of medium-hot posole for dinner? Whatever … Herself and I both had weird dreams last night that seemed to peak around 2 this morning.

In these dreams both of us had lost our phones. Herself was able to borrow one to have an extended chat with her dead mom.

I had a gun, which trumps the phone in anyone’s game. You got a gun, you can talk to anyone and they have to listen. That’s a call doesn’t go to voicemail, y’follow me, Skeezix?

I was talking to someone in a Batman mask without the ears.

Hoo-boy.

To flush that out of my skull I went for a 5K run right after toast and coffee, lifted weights when I got home, and following a more substantial breakfast hit the Elena Gallegos to ride a few trails I’ve been neglecting.

If that doesn’t hit the reset button I don’t know what will.

The usual nightmares continue in DeeCee, of course. But we can’t blame them on posole. Maybe the moon. …

Run!

March 19, 2022 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 8 Comments

The wind smears clouds like a finger over pastel pencil.

Running was the order of the day yesterday. Not from the Russians, or even from the cops. Just ’cause.

Mostly just ’cause it was all we had time for.

Another round of visitors was en route and I had been instructed to deploy my mad posole skillz. The cooking is not difficult but does burn a bit of daylight, even with Herself handling the salad, cornbread, and ice cream. So instead of a refreshing bike ride we did a half hour of the old hep hoop hreep horp along the foothills trails.

I was not at the top of my game, with seasonal allergies using my snotlocker for a speed bag and the Worm Moon wiggling into my REM sleep the night before. I don’t like taking drugs that don’t make you see things that aren’t there, or vertical blinds that make you see things that are there.

Next time we need window treatments I’ll stay in the kitchen where I’m useful, maybe whip up a batch of posole for the installers. Either that or go for a run or ride, come home just in time to sign the check.