#mexican salsa chicken recipe

[fattributes]

Authentic Pozole Verde de Pollo

[fatty-food]

Salsa Verde Chicken Enchiladas (recipe)

[neandernandor]

Cuisine - Slow Cooker Shredded Mexican Chicken

Cooked in the slow cooker, this Mexican-style shredded chicken with salsa and ancho chile powder is perfect for tacos, quesadillas, and enchiladas.

[nosebear]

Mexican Salsa Chicken

hah

4 chicken thighs

2 tins of chopped tomatoes

4 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2 onions, finely chopped

2 chilli's, finely chopped

rind and juice of 2 limes

1 tsp salt

coriander leaf and stalk

3 spring onions, chopped

tortilla's

Place the tomatoes, onions, garlic, chilli's, lime juice and rind into a blender and process till smooth. Add the coriander stalk and blitz till still a little rough. Cut 3 slices into each of the chicken thighs.

Heat some oil in a heavy based pan and add the salsa and the salt. Fry for 2 minutes and then add the chicken. Bring to the boil and simmer for 50 minutes. Chop some of the coriander leaf, add to the pan and cook for 4 minutes. Serve with the tortilla's, mayonnaise, spring onions and remaining coriander leaf.

[chapteronetobecontinued]

Soup - Chicken Tortilla Soup III

[payetagouine]

Morelos Salsa Verde - Salsa

[mariacallous]

My father was a short-order cook, a strictly stovetop kind of guy. Israeli salads and scrambled eggs. I never saw him approach the lower half of the oven, except to clean it within an inch of its life. It would take me until my 30s to realize that he did not grow up with anything like the ovens we had in Canada, and that there wasn’t much in his childhood home to place in a stove. 

He was born in Mandatory Palestine in 1936 to Yemenite parents, who themselves were born in Ottoman Palestine. All four of his grandparents left Yemen in 1881 in what was known as the First Yishuv. 

For my father, an oven was a primus — a portable camping stove that uses kerosene or paraffin oil. As a 12-year-old boy during the 1948 War of Independence, he ate grass and weeds (mostly mallow, known as kubezeh) that he had to forage for himself. So, on balance, his short-order cooking made sense. 

When I grew up and moved to Israel and other new immigrants asked me about my background, my father’s lack of culinary skills became a source of repeated disappointment. 

You must have had tons of jachnun and zhug? 

More like zero. 

I thought you said he was Yemenite. 

My father did put an awful lot of Mexican salsa on everything from spaghetti to chicken, and ate onions like apples for breakfast, but Jewish food for me was Ashkenazi all the way. Well, you can’t go back.

Recently, I introduced a new dialogue project with my EFL (English as a Foreign Language) college students (anything to get them talking). Each student had to film herself discussing her favorite family recipe. I teach in Jerusalem and my students come from a range of backgrounds that include Morocco, Algeria, Syria, Ethiopia, Russia and France. 

Occasionally I have a student with a Yemenite background. This particular student, we’ll call her Shira, introduced her recipe by stressing how often she eats it at home, and how delicious and nutritious it was, particularly for keeping on weight. This made sense as Yemen was (and still is) a very poor country, and many of their recipes are inexpensive and calorie dense, something important in an undernourished population. 

Then, to my amazement, Shira described my father’s “hot cereal” recipe, as I had always called it. He used to mention that his mother made it for him year-round, including on Passover, but I took that to mean it was a family recipe, not a Yemenite Jewish one. 

My father made this for me on the rare winter mornings when he was not off to work before I woke up. I remember the satisfied look on his face as he stirred and stirred groats, tossing out tidbits about his mother and his life in pre-state Israel like rare coins while he watched butter melt into the milk. He wasn’t much of a talker when it came to his past, but perhaps the familiar smell loosened his tongue. 

For a few minutes, I would be drawn into his world of a mother who sold her own saluf (Yemenite flatbread) and zhug to passersby for extra money and chatted in both Arabic and Yiddish, rather than my usual stance, which was “Why can’t he be like all of the other fathers in my Jewish school and pull out the AlphaBits and Fruit Loops?” Nowadays, this recipe is a family favorite, particularly on Passover and if we are having sleepover guests on Shabbat. 

I remember Shira’s surprise when I told her I was familiar with this recipe and thanked her for choosing it as her assignment. Turns out my birthright wasn’t entirely lost to me, it just took me longer than most to realize it. Better late than never. 

Cooking notes 

This recipe is endlessly adaptable:

My kids prefer it with half a cup less water and half a cup more milk. Some people omit the milk, just as they would for oatmeal. 

I’ve seen recipes that add a teaspoon of sugar and margarine instead of butter, though I’ve never tried it. 

On Passover, we substitute crushed matzah for groats or wheat. 

On Shabbat, we bake this mix in a jachnun pot on a low heat (225°F or 100°C) overnight in the oven for cold Saturday mornings, which yields a very soft mixture.

[look-at-the-soul]

Look at the soul - Part 11 Green eyes

Cillian Murphy x OC

Series master list

We’ve always heard eyes are a window to the soul, what would Cillian find in Marianne’s?

Word count: 3,460

Song: Green eyes by Coldplay

Cillian rolled the script in his hands as his eyes crossed the stage and he found the cast getting ready to leave as they finished the rehearsal. Marianne waved at Jason, he played the role of the barman.

“Ready?” Lee approached her.

“I really need that margarita tonight.” Marianne groaned, rolling her neck to ease the tension from her shoulders.

“And all I can think of is having those tacos already.” Lee chuckled.

“Tacos?” Cillian’s voice interrupted them, he was a few steps behind.

Both girls turned around to look at him, they had the same expression of a kid who was just caught up with the hand inside of a cookie jar.

“You’re having tacos and didn’t invite me?” He asked placing one of his hands over his chest, pretending to be hurt.

“You can come if you want.” Marianne replied.

“Thought you had already left.” Enda joined them a moment later, Heidi following him.

“They’re having tacos without us.” Cillian raised his eyebrows.

“Are you serious?” Enda gave them a accusation look.

“It’s not like that.” Marianne tried mortified.

Cillian leaned his elbow on his friend’s shoulder. “So what are you doing tonight?”

“Eating tacos of course.” He folded his arms in front of his chest.

“Me too.” Cillian agreed with a huge grin leading the way towards the parking lot. “I’m starving.”

The girls shared a look, unsure of how the night would unfold, they were so used to their dynamic now.

“Can you hurry up?” Enda called impatient.

“Let’s go!” Cillian shouted with excitement.

***

“Hmmm this is heaven.” Enda admitted before getting more chips and dip. “I’m still mad that you left us out of this.” He then pointed at the amazing food at the table.

“I told you it was a girls night out originally.” Heidi rolled her eyes.

“We don’t have to dress up as women right?” Enda joked mimicking a girly pose.

“You’re always looking for any excuse man.” Cillian retorted making the girls laugh. “I’m going to tell your wife to hide her heels.”

“Alright, tacos are ready.” Marianne announced placing the tray in the middle of the table. “And you’re more than welcome to join us every week.”

“Shall we declare tacos night inaugurated?” Cillian rubbed his hands together.

“I’m never skipping a tacos night.” Enda announced solemnly taking a bite. “Oh fuck! This is so good.” He shouted.

“I want one of each.” Lee added passing her plate to the opposite side.

“And you haven’t tried her chicken with chipotle yet.” Cillian shook his head, the mere memory was mouthwatering.

Lee looked from Cillian to Marianne suspiciously, wondering how close those two had been getting lately, sneaking backstage before rehearsals to the point of him tasting one of her recipes. She added a mental note to ask her later about that.

But her friend was oblivious to Lee’s stare as she got busy with the tortillas.

“This is fun, we really need to keep it going.” Heidi proposed as she got a text message. “My husband wants some tacos but I don’t think there’ll be anything left, and I don’t have the heart to tell him.”

“No no, tacos are just meant to be eaten here not to take out.” Enda held the tray with both hands apprehensively.

“Just tell him you ordered pizzas tonight.” Cillian encouraged.

“Woah. The salsa is spicy.” Lee pointed waving her hand in front of her mouth, grabbing her glass to wash down the burning sensation in her throat.

“Last time you told me it wasn’t, so I added more this time.” Marianne explained.

“So tell me how did this start.” Enda asked getting a second round of food.

“I was craving some Mexican one day and then I showed Lee some pictures, so I found a little market that has a lot of Mexican stuff and just like that we asked Heidi if she wanted to join us for dinner, Michelle and Isa have been sometimes too.”

“Well thank you for the invitation.” Enda teased.

Cillian chuckled. “He’s never letting that one go, trust me I’ve known him for so long.”

“You said tacos and margaritas, so where’s my drink?” Enda adjusted the glasses on his nose.

“Go easy with the tequila or you’ll start living la vida loca.” Heidi suggested in a very clear Spanish.

Enda and Cillian’s laugh filled the place.

“What happened with Layla?” Heidi asked before taking another bite of her food.

Marianne shuddered. “Think she was in a bad mood or something, because she pushed me so rough.”

“I was thinking of stepping in, but didn’t want to interfere in the rehearsal.” Heidi admitted.

“Who’s she?” Enda interjected. “Should’ve picked a blonde, a brunette and a redhead to play the prostitutes, they’ll look the same.” He admitted laughing.

“When did that happen?” Cillian’s brows knitted.

“From the beginning, I swore she left you a mark.” Lee pointed out. “She’s been acting weird towards you since forever.”

“Please elaborate.” Enda leaned on the table.

Lee threw a quick glance in Marianne’s direction.

“After she joined the play, she wanted to introduce herself to Cillian but he was on the phone in my dressing room so I told her, very politely that he was busy at that moment and she took it badly.”

“No but tell them about the day I heard her mocking your accent.” Lee lost it, she had kept it to herself for so long.

Enda gave Heidi a knowing look, worried about how it would unfold.

“If I had learned this earlier I wouldn’t let her be part of this, unfortunately the opening is around the corner.”

Heidi nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“I mean I’m aware of my accent, I’m the first one to laugh when I make a mistake, but it’s obvious she has a problem with me.”

“You’ll never please everyone.” Cillian stated crossing his leg. “Don’t take a single comment from a person you wouldn’t ask for advice.”

And as he said that, they all raised their glasses.

“Need some help?” Cillian asked Marianne as she was busy with the tortillas.

But she shook her head and turned them around just using her hand, as if the pan wasn’t hot.

“You’re going to burn yourself.”

“Yeah?” Marianne smiled placing her hand on top of one again t show Cillian nothing happened.

“So you like playing with fire huh?” He tilted his head, fixing his eyes on her. “You should know then, people who plays with fire, usually gets burn.” He flirted.

The way he dragged his words and the velvety tone of his voice made it sound as if he was giving her warning with a double meaning. Leaving Marianne speechless, her mind in blank, unable to answer anything.

Where did that came from?

Heidi walked between them to get another one, oblivious to what was happening. “Would it be weird if I mix all the fillings in one taco?”

When Marianne looked again at Cillian the atmosphere had changed, he was now texting someone. So she decided that perhaps it had just been a game from her imagination.

“A little, but who are we to judge you?” Lee encouraged.

In a matter of seconds, the kitchen got silent again as they all focused on their food and drinks.

***

Turning around, Marianne found Cillian a few meters away with his hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed as he laughed at something Enda said.

Staring at him from afar she took in of his curls and the way he seemed so engaged in the conversation unfolding. A head tilt and then she saw him rubbing his fingertips against his lips.

And as if it was some kind of revelation…

How could he, as the narrator of the story know a lot of things about Adria? This man had to have some kind of deep bond with her.

“Wait! Enda! Cill!” She shouted as they were heading out.

Marianne was running out of breath as she reached them, giving them an excited look.

“You’ve to hear this…” her eyes sparkled in excitement. “I finally realized what you think it’s been missing from the play.” Marianne explained, Enda had been struggling the last couple of days because he kept insisting something was missing from the story but he couldn’t figure out what.

“Well, tell me!”

“The narrator,” she looked up at Cillian and back to Enda, “how could this man know Adria’s story so well? He can’t be just a narrator, there has to be something else… a connection.”

“I’m not following.” Enda admitted frowning.

“We all know how life has been complicated towards Adria, the tough situation with her brother taking everything she owns and blocking her from getting a job and all, we’ve seen her how it is for her to accept the gifts those men give her thinking that will grant them her heart and she uses the money to survive… but we barely know a thing or two about her real feelings, there has to be someone she loved once and-”

Cillian couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he caught up with her idea, it was brilliant.

“Her heart is a mystery until we reveal a small glimpse.” He added staring at Enda.

“I need a drink,” this was mindblowing, it had always been under his nose and he had been so blind. “Shall we go to a pub and talk this through?”

“Yes!” Marianne have them a wide smile, her cheeks blushing.

“C’mon there’s one two blocks away.” Enda wrapped his hand around Marianne’s shoulder to guide her out of the parking lot. “You know this changes a lot of things right?”

Marianne nodded realizing the impact it would have in the rehearsals.

“Remember I’ve a trip tomorrow, but send the changes to my email.” Cillian pointed at Enda. “I just hope my dog won’t make a mess in the house.”

“Are your kids staying with your parents?”

“Yeah but I can’t have them taking care of Scout too.”

Marianne looked at him in silence for an instant.

“I can puppysit.”

Cillian stopped walking, surprised by her proposal.

“Really, I mean I love dogs and these days I’m taking classes online I’m only busy with the rehearsals.”

“He’s a beast.”

“Oh c’mon, bet he behaves better than most people.” Marianne dismissed his statement.

“Are you sure?”

“Just say thank you, stop asking her the same.” Interjected Enda.

Cillian laughed relieved and thankful for the help, he then explained her he’d bring his dog first thing in the morning with all the things she might need, it would still be a short stay though, just for two days while he traveled to London for something work related.

As they walked on the empty street, Cillian closed the jacket over his chest, feeling a shiver running up and down his body.

“So how do we do this?”

“Well, ask that to the mastermind here, she got the idea.” Enda chuckled nudging Marianne with his elbow.

“I was thinking of maybe Adria finds a letter she kept in a box or a photograph perhaps of her lost love and that’s how you reveal that side of her to the audience, but then I thought as you already have the narrator element telling part of the story, Cillian could reveal that part you know, verbally while Adria is in the back staring at his picture.”

“My head is about to explode.” The screenplay writer admitted shocked by the insights Marianne was providing, but it was just one way to prove how connected she was with her character.

Cillian smiled proudly as they reached a booth in the corner, he had been for the last thirty minutes as he started to listen to Marianne’s ideas. This was the kind of thing he didn’t know she could do when he first saw her and it was a remarkable thing to admire from her.

“Do you think it’s possible?” Cillian gave his friend a long look. They were against time.

“Of course I’m going to need a ridiculous amount of caffeine through the night, but sure I can have this by tomorrow.” He took a sip of his pint, desperate to head home.

“Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want you to feel like any pressure to add this.” Marianne doubted toying with the glass of rosé in front of her.

Enda leaned against the back of his seat. “I can’t tell you how much I love that you are so invested in this that you even start adding ideas, it’s so cathartic for me and a relief to know Adria is in the best hands. Here.” He took her face between his hands and planted a loud kiss on her cheek.

“Perhaps her brother had something to do with the fact that Adria split with- are we still naming him narrator?” He chuckled.

“Yes because I want every man in the room thinking it could be him.” Enda took a long sip of his drink and looking at his watch he gasped. “Shit I gotta go, or the wifey will be mad. But keep the brainstorming!”

“I’ve never seen him so obsessed with a play.” Cillian cleared his throat as he moved closer to Marianne.

Honey, you are a rock

Upon which I stand

“Had been thinking that instead of having you talking from the sound booth, you should be on stage narrating because well, the narrator knows everything about Adria first hand.”

“I like that.” His eyes sparkled under the dim light of the pub. “What else?”

“What about you being something like a bartender in the background first and then… boom the big revelation of who you are.”

Cillian nodded, imagining the scene.

And I come here to talk

I hope you understand

“The way I see it is someone with a bohemian kind of look.”

“So… what’s the main story of the bohemian at the bar?” Cillian asked pulling Marianne from her daydream.

He asked the waitress for a napkin and pen to write down the ideas. Marianne noticed the long looks and smilies the woman was giving him, asking over and over if he needed something else. Lee was right, everywhere they went, he got an endless queue of women fighting for his attention. Women offering in a tray without thinking while he was inside of his bubble. How could she compete with that? When he really had a catalog to choose from with endless possibilities; all kinds of beauty, hair color, nationalities…

It was impossible to not fall for that smile and the way he deeply engaged in whatever you were doing, he was hands down the most attentive person, always had something interesting to add, something funny to say. Cillian always added something that really helped you. But when he fixed his ocean eyes on hers, almost without blinking, it was as if he was opening all of the layers to see the deepest parts of her soul, and she ended up questioning everything.

“You can’t even begin to imagine how important this is, you got to the point to start thinking as your character, more importantly, you’re walking in her shoes.” Cillian praised pulling her back to reality.

He had a good feeling about this, about her idea, Enda had already trusted her in different matters and she ended up adding something really good.

And besides all of that, he loved to listen her talking about something that she felt really passionate about, loved the way her eyes lighted up and held a special sparkle.

The green eyes

Yeah, the spotlight

Shines upon you

“Has it happened to you? Getting ideas for your characters?”

Cillian thought her expressions were adorable. It was impossible to not feel like some kind of magnet was pulling him closer.

And how could

Anybody deny you?

“Yes, plenty of times because I let the character use my body as an instrument to project whatever it wants to the public,” he explained forcing himself to focus on something else other than her, “it’s like taking a step back and allowing them to take charge, huh?”

“I never thought about it until now, and it’s both scary and fascinating.” She rested her face on her hand, leaning closer to Cillian.

I came here with a load

And it feels so much lighter now I met you

Marianne was suddenly conscious of the small pout of his lips and the almost imperceptible nod he did.

“I’m in awe of the incredible feeling it is to be onstage,” she admitted placing a loose lock behind her ear.

Cillian felt like it was mouthwatering, everything, every little thing she did, it had an indescribable feeling in him.

The dim light, the little conversation they were having, the rest of the pub disappearing.

He had always been complimented by his eyes and he really didn’t paid attention to other people’s eyes, until now… he was only realizing of the kaleidoscopic shades that were part of Marianne’s green eyes. Of all kinds of shades and tones, a deep emerald adorning around the edge of the iris, a lighter shade mixing perfectly with an olive tone and small rays of gold as it got closer to the pupils.

And honey, you should know

That I could never go on without you

Green eyes

He found them fascinating and it felt contradictory to what he believed in, when someone started talking about his, he brushed the topic to the side and changed the conversation. Destroying any small chance that could allow his ego to grow. But when it came to hers, he realized this was the first time he noticed something like that.

They were so inviting and it was taking all of his willpower to resist the urge to get closer.

That green eyes

You're the one that I wanted to find

Her eyes seemed to change under different lights and he realized now it also depended of the color she was wearing. Now with a purple jumper made the fascinating color of her eyes pop and it was impossible not to get lost in the depths of that emerald treasure.

But what was truly fascinating was all of the things she could express through her eyes even when she wasn’t talking. Every emotion flashing through her eyes, she was so transparent, so genuine.

“Well… how could he not know everything about her? How could she ever forget about the most important person in her life?” She moved her hands in sync with her words. “How could someone become a stranger after seeing your soul?”

He wasn’t sure anymore if this was Marianne or Adria talking… or a mix of both.

And anyone who tried

To deny you must be out of their minds

Cillian leaned back as if he was hit in the gut and the air was taken away from him. Her words repeating over and over in his mind like a song. He had to admit he’d allow her to see his soul as many times as she wanted. She could walk over his back in heels if that made her happy. And that scared him, because of the magnitude it meant; it would mean to give her all of him, his deepest fears, his dreams, his secrets.

Feeling goosebumps all over his skin, Cillian couldn’t help but lean forward a little.

Marianne smiled shyly and looked down at her hands but quickly her gaze returned to Cillian who couldn’t disguise his attraction any longer.

One look and he could be at her feet.

Her breath got caught in her throat as she realized the atmosphere changed suddenly and Cillian was holding her gaze, alternating from her eyes to her lips.

Time stopped as their hearts were drumming inside their chests.

Cillian couldn’t help but wonder what her lips would taste.

There was a force pulling them closer, something neither of them could fight.

Their lips were about to meet midway. A tingle appeared from the anticipation, head tilting…

“Would you like another round?” The waitress interrupted them, breaking off their moment, she tapped her pen against her opposite arm.

Cillian straightened his back as he cleared his throat.

He gave Marianne a long look, noticing the small shook of her head he then thanked the waitress. The magic was gone.

In an instant the bubble burst.

She noticed the waitress had passed in front of them for the hundredth time and she only had eyes for Cillian, but as much as she tried to caught his attention, it didn’t work but she had definitely killed the mood. But she couldn’t blame her though, Cillian was attractive and he had this incredible vibe that made you look twice in his direction.

Perhaps they could talk now that they were out of the pub.

“Can I drive you home?” He offered hoping to continue where they just left, but just as he did, one of his sons called him to let him know they were as well on their way back home.

“It’s fine I’ll get an Uber.” Marianne waved him off so he wouldn’t be late for his sons. “Don’t forget to bring Scout over.” She tried to brush it off, but deep down she couldn’t help but think what would have happened if they weren’t interrupted.

****

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[leoslosttoolbelt]

YOU GUYS HEAR ME OUT valdangelo rivals to lovers au where they both run different restaurants that happen to be right in front of each other. Nico owns a fine dining Italian restaurant that's frequented by important people and always has the best reviews and Leo has a Mexican restaurant that's always buzzing with students and takeaway orders - literally no one cares about their rivalry except them. Both of their food places are so different with such different target demographics that comparing them doesn't make sense but neither of them are going to 'back down'.

Nico gets a wine cellar? Leo's already updating their best-selling salsa recipe. Nico gets a michallin star? Leo needs to expand to another floor to handle the customers. Despite how much they seem to despite each other, nothing says more about their relationship other than the way that Leo spends his Friday night at Nico's restaurant when they've both closed - bickering over a bottle of white wine and some of Leo's off-the-menu spicy chicken pesto and cream risotto concoction that Nico makes fun of but makes regardless. Or the way that Nico orders from Leo's restaurant at least twice a week when he's had a busy day - he never talks about how Leo always gives him an extra serving of guacamole, or the way Leo always makes sure to deliver his order to Nico's doorstep himself.

[beautiful-basque-country]

The food served at Basque restaurants in the US equally fascinates and horrifies me: pinto beans without sacramentos, pickled tongue (an icon in euskoyankee cuisine), salad with a strange dressing and fresh cheese (yes, that white thing), chips, spaghetti, green beans and more unknown things.

It’s side dish paradise. A festival of “create your own dish”. And you can’t identify anything on the table despite it being “authentic Basque cuisine”:

It fascinates me how the meaning of the same signifier (Basque cuisine) changes depending on circumstances and environment. For the Americans of Basque origin this - and not any other thing, not the Basque cuisine from here [EH] - is the cuisine that defines their ethnic identity. How not to love them, if they offer you rice with mussels as Basque-ness heaven 😍

The truly magical aspect of Basque-American cuisine is that it was developed to adapt to the available ingredients (much meat, few fish) and to the more and more americanized taste of their fellow diners. It was need what brought them away from the culinary canon of their homeland. Don’t tell someone from Bakersfield, Reno or Boise that what they eat isn’t a true Basque recipe because they will hit you. As they should.  Their concept of identity, of what’s traditional or super Basque is as valid as our own. A big part of the Basque women that created the Basque-American recipes arrived in America from a rural and poor place. Their food references didn’t include anything fancy or some dishes that were created at the beginning of the 20th century that eventually succeeded here, like cod pil-pil. They moved to the US out of need and they used to live like this:

Other euskoyankee recipes came directly from shepherds, men with few or no cooking experience but that were very hungry. They had to live alone with the only help of a pot and a fire. Basque shepherds invented a unique breakfast - bread, cheese and honey, mixed with boiling hot coffee - that was talked about in the Californian press in 1929: 

They also made popular the so-called sheepherder bread, that’s still a classic in California and that they would make in an iron pot. Shepherds would get up in the early morning, make the dough with some saved yeast, and let it rise while they got ready to work. Later, in a hole digged in the ground, they would put some red hot coal and then an iron pot with the dough in, and covered it with the lid, more coal and dirt. When they came back from work, their bread was ready and still warm. This type of bread is completely unknown in Euskadi, but it’s an icon of Basqueness in the US. There are even competitions.

Another characteristic of euskoyankee food is more how it’s eaten, and not what. The first Basque restaurants in the US were dining areas inside hostels, with a fixed menu and a communitary style. Long tables, everyone eating the same. Just like when we go to a sagardotegi.

For a fixed price you get soup, salad, the famous pickled tongue, pasta, cheese, salsa (Mexican style), bread, wine and a main dish that changes everyday: lamb stew, oxtail, sweetbreads, fried chicken, etc. Is this what we understand as Basque cuisine? Of course not, but it isn’t less authentic than ours. Here our food tradition evolved in one way, and there, in another. We are nobody to put labels or to believe we are guardians of anything. It’s even possible that some Basque-American recipes are older than many we consider a classic and super traditional on this side of the Atlantic. Let me remind you that the old Basque cuisine was extremely simple and humble.  

Original Twitter thread by Basque journalist and foodie Ana Vega

[clarafyer]

I should really list my safe foods so here I go - These foods I almost always will eat. Sometimes there are days where the preference against them is so strong that I will physically gag upon just smelling them but it is a rare few foods that that happens

Meals

- Bush's chili beans - hot (if possible: with cayenne pepper, black peppercorns, and garlic power)

- Chicken tenders/boneless wings (preferably with buffalo sauce)

- Pho

- My signature Subway sandwich

- IN ORDER: Italian herb and cheese bread with turkey, bacon, provolone cheese - toast. Guacamole lettuce, chipotle southwest sauce (ask if I want onion, sometimes that preference changes)

- Kraft mac n' cheese (ORIGINAL FLAVOUR PLEASE EVERYTHING ELSE IS BAD)

- CocoWheats for breakfast almost every day

- McDonald's order: 10 pc chicken nuggets with buffalo sauce, large fry + chocolate shake if it's one of those lucky days

- Sushi (Salmon nigiri, salmon avocado rolls, Alaska rolls, dragon rolls, those frickin crunchy rolls with spicy mayo are good :) also wasabi is an absolute yes, SHRIMP IS A BIG NO EW)

- Pizza (Pepperoni, onions are a sometimes thing, buffalo sauce is common but not a dependency lol ALSO EXTRA TOMATO SAUCE IF POSSIBLE)

- Pasta (regular spaghetti or farfalle (bowtie shaped) with just butter, Cavender's seasoning, and occasionally marinera)

Snacks

- Frozen blueberries

- Spicy cheetos

- Takis (chili lime or the blue one)

- Strawberries

- Pretzels with Nutella/chocolate covered pretzels

- Goldfish (classic or flavour blasted cheddar)

- Oranges

- Chips and salsa (either my recipe or whatever's closest to almost every Mexican restaurant's salsa)

- Apples (slices are awesome but I don't care about whole ones) (ALSO ALMOST EVERY APPLE RELATED DESERT IS AMAZING)

- Saltines

- Doritos

---

CURRENTLY OUT OF IDEAS BUT THIS IS ALREADY KINDA MASSIVE I THINK-? There are other foods I do like but aren't really an always thing. I used to be a looooott pickier when I was little, but before I even had any idea about being autistic, father dearest told me to at least give new foods a try and not just refuse everything, and I heeded that advice. I'm willing to try foods if they look particularly appetizing, buuuut most of the time it ends up being okay the first 2 bites and then it's bad to me

OKAY BYEEEE I'M MAINLY USING THIS AS REFERENCES TO MAKE LIFE EASIER FOR ME AND MY RELATIVESSSS

[fattributes]

Chicken Barbacoa Tacos

[remembertoeat]

Dinner Recipe: "Fancy Salads"

TIME: ★★★★

PRICE: ★★★★

EASE: ★★★★

CLEANUP: ★★★★

"Fancy Salads" is just mine and my partner's term for... well... ANY salad that has more effort in it than a side salad. Even then, the amount of effort is typically fairly minimal.

This has room to be much more intensive, but typically these take us about 10 minutes to throw together. Possibly less if you have pre-cut veggies.

We usually use leftover chicken (or other protein) from our previous meals, but you could leave it out entirely or replace it with your protein of choice (tofu, chickpeas, etc.) There are a couple variations that we frequently make, depending on what we have in stock or what leftovers we have! All of these use a salad green base (we grab a handful or two of 50/50 salad blend, romaine, spinach, etc.)

-Summer Salad:  Mandarin oranges, cherry tomatoes, almonds, craisins, strawberries

-Autumn Salad:  Diced apple, walnut, strawberry, crumbled goat cheese

-Harvest Salad:  Craisins, corn, pecans, avocado, sunflower seeds, bacon

-House Salad:  Red onion, cherry tomatoes, carrots, cucumber, cheddar cheese, croutons

-Italian Salad:  Pepperoncinis, red onion, kalamata olives, tomatoes, parmesan, croutons, italian dressing

-Taco Salad: Salsa, Mexican blend cheese, avocados (or guac,) red onion, jalapenos, corn chips (this is a GREAT way to get rid of the crumbly corn chips at the bottom of the bag!)

Grab a big handful of greens. Toss it in a bowl. Toss the toppings in with it. Drizzle with dressing of choice. Done. SUPER easy, quick, and tasty!

NOTE: Some of these topping sets are gluten free, dairy free, or could be easily modified to be so. I don't have food restrictions, so be sure to double check your dressings to adapt them as necessary!

[bitbybitwrites]

If I Can Make Your Heart My Home - Recipe and Song list - Chp 16, 17 and 18

Here is the music/recipe wrap-up for chapters 16, 17 and 18!

You can see the recipes/music under the cover art by @datshitrandom

Some spoilers are below, so if you’d like to read the fic first, click here

Click below for the recipe and song lists for:

Chapters 1, 2 and 3, Chapters 4, 5 and 6, Chapters 7, 8 and 9, Chapters 10, 11 and 12 , Chapters 13, 14 and 15

To see the YouTube playlist for the fic, click here.

******

Chapter 16

Mood music:

Recipies:

You'll find Victoria sponge, Tea sandwiches and Kurt's cookies in earlier chapter recipe wrap ups ( see links above)

“Besides, it's not all for me.  I share with my sister Jean.  By the way, she happens to enjoy those chouquettes you make,” Chef Sylvester tossed out as she continued peering at him over her glasses.

*****

Chapter 17

Mood music:

Recipes:

"Is he off to go take lunch with his boyfriend, then?" Santana asked sarcastically as she continued vigorously stirring the batch of Ceylon Chicken Curry soup she made for the luncheon.

****

Chapter 18

Mood music:

Soon, a bouncy salsa started playing.  Trent wiped his hands on his apron and pulled Santana into an impromptu dance.  She laughed and played along for a few seconds only.

Recipies:

"My pozole," Santana said, smacking him on the arm as she pulled away to return to the stove.  "Don't you dare make me ruin my Abuela's recipe.  Find another dance partner."

Santana's pozole, the recipe of which was handed down to her by her beloved abuela, was simmering on the stovetop.  That was to be partnered with her father's cochinita pibil.  Warm hand-made tortillas sat folded carefully in a towel, ready to be brought to the once dinner was about to be served.

Trent had a Caprese salad in the refrigerator, prepped and ready to serve.  He was putting the finishing touches on an impressive charcuterie board, abundant with tidbits that made even Kurt's mouth water.  Trent had also just taken out some herb parmesan biscuits out of the oven that he had baked.  Kurt had been particularly eying Trent's appetizer version of his parent's boxty recipe that was laid out on a silver serving tray.

As for dessert, that, of course, was left to Kurt.  His addition to the meal were the apple hand pies that were his mother's own recipe and his father's favorite dessert ( when he was allowed to have a treat from his usual heart-healthy diet), an assortment of cookies, as well as some mini dark chocolate tartlets sprinkled with sea salt. 

Think I got them all. Let me know if I missed any.

Sending all my love to you readers who have given this fic a chance. Wow can't believe we're already up to Chapter 18!

Chapter 19 to be posted soon!

[abramsbooks]

RECIPE: Pollo in Guajillo (from Asada by Bricia Lopez and Javier Cabral)

This grilled chicken has gotten me through so many long days working at Guelaguetza. There were times when I ate it for lunch every day, sometimes with a big salad, sometimes with homestyle french fries, or with rice, beans, and tortillas. It tastes great any way you eat it and it reheats beautifully. This is a solid recipe to make on a Sunday and eat throughout the week. I purposely did not soak the chiles, in order to create a rustic marinade that has more texture; the flavor of burnt chile once it is grilled makes this chicken recipe stand out.

Serves 4

12 guajillo chiles (1¾ ounces/50 g), stems and seeds removed

½ large white onion (5. ounces/150 g), roughly chopped

8 cloves garlic, peeled

¼ teaspoon black peppercorns (about 12 peppercorns)

1 whole clove

1 tablespoon dried Mexican oregano

2 tablespoons grapeseed oil

¼ cup (60 ml) orange juice

2 tablespoons seasoned rice vinegar

2 tablespoons fresh lime juice

¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon

1½ tablespoons sea salt

2 pounds (910 g) bone-in chicken thighs

In a cast-iron skillet over medium heat, lightly toast the chiles, about 2 to 3 minutes on each side. Remove from the skillet and set aside.

In the same skillet, add the onion and garlic, turning once or twice until they are lightly charred, about 10 minutes. Remove from the skillet and set aside.

Add the peppercorns, clove, and dried oregano to the pan and lightly toast until they are aromatic, about 2 minutes. Transfer the toasted spices and oregano to a molcajete or spice grinder and grind until finely ground.

In a high-performance blender or food processor, add the toasted chiles, onion, garlic, ground spices and oregano, oil, orange juice, rice vinegar, lime juice, cinnamon, and salt. Blend until most of the chiles have come apart.

Pat the chicken dry with paper towels. Using a gallon-size resealable bag, add the marinade and the chicken. Seal and let sit in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes or overnight.

Remove the chicken thighs in their marinade from the fridge to allow them to reach room temperature before grilling.

Start a charcoal or gas grill. The gas should be set to high. If using a pellet grill, preheat your grill to 450°F (230°C) for at least 15 minutes. If using charcoal, the coals should be red but entirely covered with gray ash.

Remove the chicken from the marinade and put them on the grill directly over the medium fire, skin side up. Close the lid and cook, turning once, about 15 minutes on each side. The chicken is cooked when its internal temperature reaches 175°F (79°C) on a meat thermometer. Transfer the meat to a cutting board and let rest for 5 minutes.

Oaxaca authors Bricia Lopez and Javier Cabral are back with the first major cookbook about how to create asada—Mexican-style grilled meat—at home

In millions of backyards across Southern California, an asada means a gathering of family, friends, great music, cold drinks, good times, and community—all centered around the primal allure of juicy, smoky grilled meat with flavors and spices traditional to Mexico. The smell of asada is a cloud of joy that lingers in the streets of Los Angeles. With Asada: The Art of Mexican-Style Grilling, Mexican food authorities and the authors of Oaxaca, Bricia Lopez and Javier Cabral, are back with more than 100 recipes that show you how to prepare the right dishes and drinks for your next carne asada gathering. Asada will both guide you in crafting mouthwatering food and inspire the right laidback atmosphere.

Everyone says they love a spicy margarita and asada tacos, but very few understand the culture that informs these flavors. Divided into the eight crucial elements of any carne asada: botanas (appetizers), carnes (meats), mariscos (seafood), side dishes and vegetables, salsas, aguas frescas, cocktails, and dessert, Asada walks you through every step. From Lopez’s secret “michelada marinade” to game-changing salsas that will elevate any grilled meat, this cookbook is the ultimate guide to making and beginning to understand the magic of asada.

For more information, click here.

[three--rings]

Today I have Made Soup again and this time it’s one of my favorite recipes which I’ve discovered is only available on the Wayback machine.  So I’m gonna repost it here for posterity.

Tex Mex Chicken and Rice Soup

Ingredients:

3 tablespoons olive oil

divided coarse salt and fresh black pepper

1 pound boneless chicken breasts, cut into small cubes

1 small onion, diced

1 red or green bell pepper, diced

1/2 cup finely chopped black olives

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 + 1/2 teaspoons chili powder

1 teaspoon dried oregano(preferably Mexican), crushed between fingertips

1/2 teaspoon dried thyme

1/2 cup uncooked long or medium-grain white rice, rinsed well in a wire strainer with cold water

5 cups low-sodium chicken broth

1 cup salsa

2/3 cup fresh or frozen corn

for serving:

fresh chopped cilantro

lime wedges

shredded sharp cheddar cheese

sour cream

tortilla chips

Instructions

In a large soup pot heat 1 tablespoon of oil over medium heat. Season the chicken well and cook, stirring often so all sides get browned. Remove to a dish and set aside.

Add 2 tablespoons of oil to the pot over medium-low heat and saute the onion, pepper, garlic and olives together 5 minutes, season well with salt and pepper and stir often.

Mix in the chile powder, oregano, thyme and rice, cook 3 minutes.

Stir the chicken back into the pot and add the broth, salsa and corn. Bring to a simmer and cook 30 minutes. Stir and taste often - seasoning as needed.

Serve with toppings like cilantro, cheese, sour cream, lime and tortilla chips if desired.

This soup is really adaptable.  I usually make it with leftover chicken or turkey (like right now) rather than from raw.  The veggies also can be subbed for whatever you have/like. (I like adding chopped zucchini in the later half of cooking to replicate this one soup from a restaurant I love.)  I added black beans this time cause forgot to get corn and also don’t have a lot of leftover turkey.  You can also use fresh herbs if you have them/prefer.

Original recipe at: https://web.archive.org/web/20130307071946/http://www.cinnamonspiceandeverythingnice.com/tex-mex-chicken-rice-soup/   but the blog doesn’t exist at all anymore, so I don’t feel bad doing this.