I swung by my favorite joint today, hoping to find the truck open for business. Thanks to the swelter they closed early, if they had ever in fact opened at all today. One of the cute, young blue-haired taco truck attendants told me that they kept it closed during last week’s heat wave; it’s too much on the cooks to be in there under such conditions. Perhaps they did the same thing today. Understandable, no?
Instead, I set foot inside the store (Whole Foods, naturally) and did some shopping. I fetched a head of red cabbage, a red pepper (color is the key to presentation), and a couple filets of catfish. Something different. No sour cream. No mayo. No vegenaise (which is friggin’ nasty, for the record). I’m just gonna use good ol’ hot sauce. I also picked up something called Moon Salad and Mediterranean quinoa. I’m a regular VW-driving tree hugger.
Why am I telling you all this? Because it’s Friday night, I’m sitting in my hot apartment, and I’m bored. The AC isn’t on because I feel like enjoying the heat. It”ll get me through the cold winter, assuming I’m still here… The real reason, however, I’m sharing this story is because my Dad cracked me the eff up yesterday and I must bring his wacked sense of humor to your attention. Maybe it will shed a ray or two upon my twisted mind. After all, it’s half his fault.
I logged onto Facebook last night and found a long post on Dad’s Wall. Timeline. Whatever the fuck it’s called. There, he wrote of his recent foray into the wonderful world of fish-taco building. Granted, he strayed from the usual fare a bit; I feel you will appreciate the substitutions he made.
Before I get into that, I gotta let you know: Dad and his wife Fran, my stepmom, are big fans of my blog. They often leave encouraging comments to that effect. Sometimes I make them laugh, which is every kid’s dream, no matter how old he or she gets. My parents approve? Sweet. With all my taco talk of late, Fran decided to send me a recipe she found online. Ten days ago, I received this:
“Not sure which email you use on a regular basis, so I sent this to both. Saw this fish taco recipe and thought of you. Fran
If you took the time to click the link, you’ll have noticed that it’s real. Down to the jicima slaw, this recipe is legit. I’ve yet to make it to specs, but I happen to know a place that sells all those ingredients. Speaking of ingredients, I think I’ll go ahead and paste Dad’s recipe below. This is what my father (aka: Dad) posted on Facebook last night. It’s a winning recipe:
OK … here it is … My son Rob was talking about Fish Tacos a while back. On my way home from werk today, I was thinking about them too. I decided that’s what was going to be for dinner. When I got home I didn’t have tacos, but I did have Rye Bread, so I used that instead. Then I found out I didn’t have any fish – so I used some peanut butter instead. Then I found out I didn’t have any special sauce or shredded lettuce, so I used some Grape Jelly. I have to tell you … That was the best fish taco I’ve had in a long time! It was so good – i had two. I wanted to have a good cold beer with my tacos, but I had no beer – so I used milk (2%) instead. Man … do I know how to cook or what???? I didn’t have a clean knife for the peanut-butter and the jelly, so I used my fingers – Yep, no clean up!! I even used a paper towel to wipe my fingers … so I could still pick my nose! Fish Tacos anyone????
When you’re old you get to say anything. LOL
As you can see, Dad’s recipe is a great way to introduce kids to fish tacos. Get them eating this, their palattes will be as refines as a french poodle’s at a babseball picnic. (Is it cannibalism for a dog to eat a ballpark frank??? True story…) What this also demonstrates is that there’s a reason Dad and Fran have been married for so long: Fran is one of few women equipped to handle life with/as a Gardner as long as she has. Well-done, Fran!! Just make sure you have an extra paper towel, for after Dad picks his nose.
What can I say, gentle reader? I guess it runs in the family. I got no beef wit dat. Grass-fed or otherwise. Yo.
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As a footnote: The kid who helped bag my groceries asked me if red cabbage tastes any better than green cabbage. I really had no answer for him. Was it wrong of me to assume he was just being a smartass? Because the blonde cashier had this look of “What are you talking about, dude? Just put his stuff in the compostable bag.” But it begs the question: Does red cabbage taste better than green? I think I smell an experiment boiling…
P.S.S. I never made the catfish tacos tonight. I ate the moon salad and quinoa instead.