Hi. My name's Carol, and I love food. No, you don't understand. I love food. If I were on the Titanic, I'd be in the galley (kitchen) eating up the chocolate pudding and the roasted quail. I go to most events, activities and parties just for the food. The company and the conversation are secondary. Here, I'll try to document everything that goes into my mouth. Aren't we excited? Oh, hey, are you gonna eat that?
Saturday, May 8, 2010
In about 18 hours, I'll be lounging deckside overlooking Lake Goodwin with friends and plowing into a giant glass bowl of this stuff with a crapload of chips, while the carne asada's sizzling on the grill. Ah, good times.
Every time I am tempted to get high on my horse from the ego-inflating compliments about my cooking, an ingredient snafu always brings me back down to earth with a big, loud thud. All I had to do today was make guacamole. My previous seven attempts were successful. More than successful, addictive and insane, taking over entire potlucks.
So of course I approached the making of this guacamole with way too much confidence. That is, until I took out the half-frozen bulbs of green onion I bought only two days ago at the Asian H-Mart. Parts of the cilantro, also bought there, had turned black and were wilting. What gives? I had some leftover red onion from months ago (onions last a long time in the fridge people, calm down). But after I chopped all the ingredients, from these to two cloves of garlic from the only remaining fresh bulb left in a large netted bag, to the three serrano peppers (de-seeded, my left hand feels numb), the two plum tomatoes and the bag of Costco avocados that had slightly over-ripened (one looked pregnant)... I tasted it a bit to make sure I wasn't going to poison anyone.
I squeezed more than my usual one lime in there (totaling three), for fear the final product wasn't flavorful enough. They were small limes. Salt and pepper along each way, with each new batch of chopped flavors. As added measure, I sprinkled a little cayenne and garlic powder, some extra-virgin olive oil. I'm surprised I didn't go out and buy some sour cream to throw in there too (Nigella Lawson's trick).
I'll know by tomorrow if the guac's improved. I may ask the husband to go out and grab me one, firm avocado to throw in to maintain a little more chunky texture. As it stands now, the avocado parts are too mushy for my taste.