Tuesday, February 14, 2006

An Ode to a Week-Long Nacho Binge
Our tumultous affair started last week, half drunk with a half empty stomach, I stumbled into the downtown, wood-paneled Irish bar. You looked so tempting, so much better than all the other options. But when you came, your buffalo sauce burned my tongue. It hurt so good.

The affair continued the next night, across town, upstairs, overlooking pool players lining up shots, peering down their cues. Someone else ordered, but then you came, piled high with toppings that couldn't hide your barbecue saucy, sweet and tangy goodness.

Next, I went back to an oldie but a goodie, again in a dark-paneled Irish bar, again with a beer in hand. This time, you were topped with hearty chili, sprinkled with jalapenos. I consumed you all the same, finger-licking good.

The next night, still hooked by your melted cheesy goodness, I ventured out in the Winter Storm of '06 and gathered all the necessary supplies and in my own casserole dish and gas oven, in the comfort of my home, we had our latest tryst. Monterey jack and cheddar. Olives for a twist. But like they say, even when it was bad, it was still good. And there was still room for sloppy seconds the next night.

Tonight, our affair has ended. It was good while it lasted. I hope to meet again soon.

[OK, seriously, I've had nachos every night for like the last week. I was hooked. Addicted. And like I said, I even ventured out in the snowstorm to the supermarket, made it just in time before they closed, and made some for myself. Tonight, I had salad. I just wasn't feeling it. But still, that melted cheesy, salty, messy, spicy, sour-creamy goodness. Yumm. In contrast ... NEVER EVER EVER buy non-fat mozzarella cheese. I bought some for this baked pasta dish I made about a week ago. I should have been tipped off by the whiter than white chalk color. If not then, I should have been tipped off by the eraser like consistency. But I wasn't. I covered my baked pasta with that nastiness and even a 375 degree oven for 30 minutes couldn't fix it. When it came out, I swear I could pull the layer off, throw it at the wall, and then proceed to do math problems on it. Blech.]

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