Divine Imperfections

Taco Tuesday

Nothing fancy to share today, only the sad confession that we've had tacos the last three Tuesdays, and may very well continue the inadvertent tradition tonight.

As much as I love alliteration, and I do, even I'm not so amused with it that I plan meals around it.

It's just that...

Tacos are so easy.

And so delicious.

And they make such a wonderful excuse to stuff my face with guacamole.

 

Now that I've got tacos on your mind I figured I might as well share some of our favorite new places and recipes in case you too would like to get in on #TacoTuesday.

First, there's Torchy's Tacos. (Does alliteration get more perfect than that?)

We've had really great experiences with the location at Forrest and Preston. (We went twice the week friends introduced it to us, actually.) And the price is right to keep going back.

Their tacos range from $3.24 to $4.75 each, and I get filled up on one order (plus chips of course) so we can get out of there without breaking the bank.

 

I'm a big fan of The Democrat, beef barbacoa, avocado (yay) and cilantro, yum.

Mikael loves the Ahi tuna, which is called Mr. Pink. So manly. :)

He said Mr. Orange, which is salmon, is great too, but what really intrigues me is their Taco of the Month.

 

March's specialty is a chicken and waffle taco. With a fried egg. And bacon. And syrup.

I'm gonna judge myself for saying this, but, I've got to try that. You only #YOLO once, right? ;)

 

 

The picture of yummy shrimp tacos is from a great place my sister just introduced us to Sunday night, Meso Maya.

Their food was so good I ate my leftovers Monday and could still go back for more today.

 

I actually ordered brisket enchiladas (I'm a creature of habit, and I love bbq), and elote con crema (ain't I fancy?) but Mikael and Jessie both got tacos there, shrimp in fact.

Everything we tried was outstanding, including the housemade chips and salsa, which was a green, not-too-spicy but very flavorful blend.

Hands down it was the best Mexican I've eaten so far this year, maybe in my life.

 

The place is pretty pricey* but the food really is delightful and the atmosphere is nice too.

Dim lighting, comfortable seating, generous portions, Mexican bottled Coca-Cola. What's not to love?

(*Entrees were in the $11 to $19 range. Since I'm usually pretty thrifty I feel like I needed to clarify that. Not exactly sell a kidney pricing, but it's definitely a splurge.)

 

 

Now, this last recommendation is gonna surprise those of you that might have missed out on my #WhatsForDinner tweets over the last few months, especially if you've ever spent time and money with me at a drive thru.

But we've been making a lot of meatless meals around here, and I'm actually adjusting to the transition.

 

I still love beef, mind you, and pork, and chicken...

But, I definitely like that we're finding balance between his favorite super-healthy recipes and my guiltiest pleasures (fried Oreos, gas station hotdogs...).

 

One of our easiest go-to recipes is the Blackbean Quinoa burger recipe found here, which is super adaptable and pretty simple/quick to make.

I'm sharing it now because once you've created your "meat" you can use it in any number of applications.

In fact, TacoTuesday actually started because we made extra burger patties one Monday night, and decided to use the leftovers as tacos the next day.

 

If you scroll through the comments you'll see there are lots of ways you can adapt this particular recipe, adding different veggies to the mix, different spices, even substitutes for the bread crumbs.

Though I'm not the Head Chef in our household, should you have questions about the recipe I'll be happy to pass them along.

Most importantly though, I really can attest to how good these burgers turn out, with the right seasoning that is.

If you're interested in dabbling in vegeterianism, or just opting out of meat one or two nights a week, these blackbean burgers are a great place to start. (Plus most of the other ingredients are probably already in your cabinets.)

 

So what are you thinking? Does #TacoTuesday sound like a plan?

More than that, what are your favorite weeknight, go-to recipes?  Do share.

 

I hope you all have a great day after Monday.

I'll be back tomorrow to share something a bit more "meaty."

 

In the meantime thank you from the bottom of my hungry stomach for hanging in there with me, through all these weird meanders as I try to find my footing as a more consistent "blogger," and through all my very amateur attempts at legitimate graphic design. :)

(The logos/photos above were borrowed from the websites linked up in this post, by the way, save the fuzzy food photo in the background; that's all me.)

Your support has really helped spur me on, and I'm so grateful for faithful friends willing to stick with you through your growing pains and food cravings.

Related articles

Taco Tues. #8: Baked, Rolled Chicken Tacos

My First Plug of Torchy's Tacos

Fish & Steak Taco Recipes From PB

My recipes for this week: Taco Salad

Another Torchy's Tacos Fan

Ready-or-not, Set, GO!

There were plenty of reasons for panic to shoot through my veins as I waited to hand over my yellow tickets, and to pass through the slouching metal gate.

 

Would my very adult-sized butt fit in a seat made for small children?

Would my legs fold up enough for my feet to reach the green and red pedals?

Would I make it around the curvy, tire-lined track without spewing the queso I’d had for lunch?

 

These were the pesky questions that raced through my mind as a mustached 15-year-old amusement land worker came up to give me a 30 second safety/pep talk.

 

His single question, “You know how to drive, right?” didn’t exactly set my heart at ease, particularly since I was surveying my fellow “drivers,” the median age of which had to be eight.

He also didn’t check my seatbelt, the way the dedicated Six-Flags employees do (by yanking at a flimsy piece of cloth meant to protect you should your bucket seat remain upside down longer than intended).

But I didn’t get long to entertain these worrisome thoughts.

 

 

There was no checkered flag, or a flashing green light to signal the start of what I suspected might be the a dance with death.

Instead there was just the kid with the mustache, making minimum wage, slouching near the front of the line of vehicles manned by third-graders.

 

“Go,” he said.

 

And without fanfare we were off, the elementary students, my husband and I.

 

 

I don’t know when the last time you drove a go-kart was, but I hadn’t been behind the strange, padded wheel of one since high school at least.

That’s been more than ten years. TEN YEARS!

A lot happens in ten years. Muscle atrophy. Most of your favorite musical groups split up or retire.

And a whole heck of a lot of fear can accumulate if given a decade to fester.

 

In my case it felt like all I'd done since high school was grow afraid of a great many things, not the least of which was go-karts.

But, that makes it particularly amazing how fast those fears flew out the “window” when I determined to do something that scared me, then hit the gas. Hard.

 

Sure, I shrieked a little as I headed into my first corner, unsure how my shiny yellow kart would handle.

And I wondered, as I used all my might to slam the gas, trying to get more than 35 miles per hour, which would come first: the finish line or a nasty Charlie Horse in my right leg.

 

But by the second turn I had determined to catch up to my husband several karts ahead.

And with that goal spurring me on, I was able to barrel past any remaining fears as I finished my first lap, and then set out to drive the second as if I were Jeff Gordon/Mario himself.

 

 

For those of you unfamiliar with go-karts they are basically a poor man’s tank. They’re nothing special to look at, but they’re practically indestructible.

They have a much lower center of gravity too, giving their “drivers” the ability to make tight corners without slamming on the brakes.

 

 

This was something I learned while attempting to pass a small, red-haired boy of about seven, who looked back at me through his large glasses with both disgust and terror in his eyes.

I had bumped him ever-so-slightly in my attempt to keep my speed going through the curve, and while I had a tinge of guilt (the way any reasonable adult would) I also determined in that moment, this was no place to let guilt slow me down.

 

So I shrugged my shoulders at him as I passed that poor kid, and then another, and another… ‘til eventually I had not only passed but lapped my husband (who granted; had one of the oldest, slowest karts out there) and made my way successfully towards the front of the pack.

 

When I spotted dozens of parents standing in the distance I knew they probably thought I was a monster, barreling past their small children, mouth agape and shouting “woo hoo” most of the time.

(Heaven only knows what they thought when I shot an “I Love You!” sign to my husband, a sign language standby that probably looked a lot less wholesome, much less romantic, from a distance.)

 

But, quite frankly, I was having too much fun to care a whole lot about what they thought.

And I've got to tell you, what a glorious, foreign feeling that was!!!

 

 

It turns out they don’t pass out trophies at the Go-Kart/Batting Cage/Paintball/Mini Golf/Arcade off the highway.

Not even ribbons. Or stickers. (And man, a sticker would have been nice.)

 

But I didn’t really need one to leave that track feeling like a winner.

The second my brown ballet flat hit the gas I knew I had accomplished the stuff of dreams.

 

I had conquered a fear, then blown past it with the wind at my back.

And it felt good; it felt so good.

 

 

I hope you won’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to advocate merciless driving here.

In fact, I applaud all the parents in the world with more discipline, self-constraint than I displayed behind that tiny, padded wheel.

 

What I am realizing, and trying to say, is that I think a great many of our fears - be they getting stuck in a bucket seat or worrying what other people will think about us - are probably unfounded, or at the very least worth conquering.

 

 When this year began I held off on sharing one resolution I secretly made with myself.

It was a resolution to do more things that scare me, to start saying “Yes!” to some things that are frightening.

 

And frankly, I kept quiet about it 'cause I was scared I wouldn't follow through.

 

Clearly I’m not an expert on conquering fear.

In fact, I’m relatively new to doing anything brave ever.

 

But I hope that doesn’t disqualify me from sharing this story with you, or from preaching the value of getting past or over the things that hold us back.

'Cause I feel like it's important. At least I know it's become very important for me.

 While I haven’t booked a Bungee Jumping excursion, or decided to vacation in some war-torn land yet, I have already conquered some fears I’ve been harboring for years:

 

• I used a food processor unsupervised for the first time a few weeks ago. And I didn’t lose a finger, catch the kitchen on fire, or even ruin dinner, the way I suspected I might.

 

• I also sang in public with my husband’s band, in front of people that aren’t related to me or obligated to tolerate/like my voice. It wasn’t a roaring success, but it wasn’t a disaster either.

(For the record I'm using the following definition: a "disaster" is me literally throwing up anywhere other than a bathroom stall. This instance was a narrow victory, but a victory nonetheless.)

• And then I drove the go-kart, instead of sitting it out the way I was very tempted to do. I could have used my camera as an excuse. “Oh I’ll just take pictures this time.” I could have explained the queso situation, and I’m sure everyone would have understood.

But instead of grasping at some lame excuse, I timidly said “okay.”

And because I choked back the fear, and put on my seatbelt, I ended up having a really great time.

In coming months I hope to conquer fears in even more practical ways.

Like saying “yes” to some freelance opportunities that it’d be easy to turn down.

And saying “yes” to some chances to forge friendships, even though it’d be easier to stay in my comfortable little bubble.

‘Cause while I know some fears serve a purpose…

For instance, it’s good I thought twice about ordering a hotdog from the concession stand at an arcade that smelled of B.O. and bowling shoes. (Particularly since there was not a bowling alley in sight.)

It’s also good that I don’t drive our 1994 Jeep Cherokee the way I drove my go-kart.

… I also know that most of my fears are not based in wisdom.

 

They’re the silly kind that serve no function whatsoever. And I’m sick of letting them control me.

 

I don’t want to live my whole life afraid of go-karts. Or kitchen appliances.

And I don’t want to let the fear of failure or embarrassment keep me from pursuing my passions.

 

So this year I set out to say “Yes!” more.

And I really hope some of you will join me on this journey.

 

I hope you'll start saying “yes” to some things that scare you too.

 

Together we can push outside our comfort zones. We can commit to trying new things, to silencing fears.

We can learn to be braver. We can aspire to overcome our fears.

And, we can have a heck of a good time doing it.

 

Now, let's hit the gas!

New York City's Still Got It

The first time I stepped off a ferry and onto the great city of New York, I was seventeen-years-old. We were on a family vacation (not unlike this one), though I didn't have a husband back then. Not as a junior in high school.

I was just a small town girl.... sucked in by the streetlights. The people... :)

 

And I was instantly mesmerized at how massive it was. How overwhelming. How shiny.

It was wonderful!

After a day of running around (in hideous Payless tennis shoes I might add, we had to pick them up after my feet blistered in my "cute" wedge sandals), I was in love.

 

I think one of my favorite things about New York City, is that no matter how many times you may visit, how old you might get, how tired you are or how jaded you might feel, that city still has the power to take your breath away.

 

Yesterday we took a break from beach-side living to take a day trip to the Big Apple.

Though it wasn't nearly enough time, we managed to squeeze in most of the must-do's when you're in arguably the Greatest City in the World.

 

We grabbed hotdogs. Walked through Central Park. Took a bus tour of downtown (Times Square). Had NY-style pizza. Saw the tree at Rockefeller Center (30 Rock!!!). Got flipped off. Cut off. And honked at. (Those make you feel like a real New Yorker.)

We also caught a few remaining holiday window displays, three ice skating rinks, drank a lot of coffee, grabbed a cupcake from Magnolia Bakery, and stopped in a Duane Reade (New York's Walgreens).






It was a crazy, hectic, freezing and pretty exhausting day, but it was also pretty perfect (at least to me).

And already I can't wait to visit again, the city that stole my heart at seventeen.

Happy Day

Yesterday my head was a jumble.  A mix of nerves and apathy, with a teeny bit of naive excitement thrown in just to keep me feeling extra crazy.

The last few weeks, in fact, have been filled with so much uncertainty, so many big changes (and that's not including the stuff causing us to flip back and forth between CNN and Fox News - "unbiased debate" my butt) that sometimes I just want to scream, "STOP!!! I need a break. A second to catch my breath."

 

Do you ever have days when you just want to check out of the madness that can be modern living?

Ever want to pull that ropey, lever thingy on the bus telling the driver in no uncertain terms to pull over?

Ever want to stop this train?

 

I used to think I'd someday run away to Mexico. And spend the remainder of my life sipping fruity drinks beachside.

But lately even that backup plan isn't looking so good. (Drug cartels. Pirates. Those were never part of my retirement plan.)

 

Not that America seems much better some times.

Smear ads all over tv. Leaders defaming someone's personal character, sometimes family, to try and prove a point.

Facebook bickering over entertainment choices and Oreos.

Internal struggles about chasing dreams or choosing practicality, practicality that absolutely must include six-figures and a two car garage... practicality sometimes labeled "The American Dream."

Too many late night episodes of Wife Swap. And House Hunters.

 

Last night I was feeling particularly low and overwhelmed while prepping to attend my hometown's Fourth of July festivities, on the third.

I didn't want to run into a million people I knew (Princeton's total population is about 6,000 FYI) . I didn't want to make small talk when all I could think about was all the stuff still up in the air, stuff likely to fall on my head at any given moment... quite possibly while having a mini reunion near the bouncy houses.

Where are you living? How are you doing? What are you up to?

Those seemingly simple questions were ones I wasn't prepared to handle. So I mostly kept my head low, perking up only halfway through the night when Dad suggested a hotdog run.

And with that my defenses weakened slightly.

Ironic that French's mustard would transport me to a simpler time in life. But it did.

 

And by the time the fireworks were starting my sister's puppy had completely melted what was left of the self preservation mentality I had arrived with.

Yes, when it came time to eat my Strawberry Daiquiri sno cone (with a glo straw), hand on my husband's shoulder... as I looked down at Teddy (the Corgi) who would take a jump back at the loud crack of each firework but then rush up to see them shine, I knew things were gonna be okay.

(Isn't it awesome how kids and pups are the ones that remind us big people what's important in life? Like snuggling. And taking in the world with wonder.)
 

Yes, even if Andy Griffith died. And even if my Facebook friends can't get along.

And even if I don't know where we'll be this time next year. Or if we'll have our own vehicle to drive by this time next month.

Things are gonna be okay.

 

There were hundreds of people surrounding us last night, as our little family watched fireworks shoot over the same ball fields where I survived one very miserable season of softball (after third grade).

And I knew at that moment we had friends and family all over the country doing the same thing...

Staring up into the night sky, waiting anxiously to see a little trail of glittering lights boom into a great big sight to see. Being whisked away from their worries and up into something special. Something captivating.

Something freeing.

Something grand.

'Cause while "The Star-Spangled Banner" played I didn't hear a single person talking about the economic crisis.

I didn't hear a word about healthcare reform. Or civil unions. Or November elections. Or "breaking reports."

I also didn't feel trapped in my own head thinking about smaller but just as aggravating stresses.

 

Instead, I heard an almost timeless song being accompanied by the most peaceful booms one can experience.

The crack of fireworks overhead, signaling a moment of sacrifice and patriotism. Peace and goodwill. Gratitude and glee. (At least until the battle in the parking lots began.)

 

Fleeting as they may be, those kind of big picture moments, I'll take them. I'll take any chance I get to recuperate.

To reunite as a nation.

To put aside our differences. And focus instead on what we share.

A land of freedom. A life of liberty. A pursuit of more moments like last night.

When everything seems a bit more clear.

Happy Fourth of July friends.

I hope you have a relaxing, rejuventating, refreshing kind of celebration.

Pretty Much the BEST DAY EVER!

True. I may NOT make it to number 29.

But by golly, today has pretty much been the best day-before-my-birthday EVER!

 

<3

Weekenders

A few weekends ago we had another jam-packed adventure filled with unholy amounts of driving, but also an awful lot of fun.

We celebrated a birthday. And ate lots of donuts.

We said "goodbye" to a friend heading to the Navy. And "hello" to a new-to-us Jeep. (I also squeezed in a quick trim. Hello bangs.)

We stuffed our faces on Pazookies! (cookie + pizza = bigger pants required). And laughed our butts off at childhood stories relayed around a fire pit.

 

And somewhere between breakfast with his grandad and my Mom asking for hugs from her kids, it hit me what was happening.

My husband and I finally got to spend a weekend with our family.

With his, mine and ours.

They are OUR family now!

How cool is that?

And for the record, how cool is THIS?

Only one of the coolest cakes ever! (It came with hotdogs!)

Thanks for being borned-ed cuz. Hope you get everything you wished for (except maybe those truck decorations I hear you've been wanting.)