A few weeks ago, I drove one of my best friends to the airport. She moved to the other side of the globe (quite literally) so the name of the game was comfort food.
We used to live together and cooking in our tiny kitchen was a lot of fun. It was hot year round, and very poorly vented, so we would simmer in the sweat lodge, washing dishes along the way to try to free up what little counter space we had. We burned wooden spoons and shooed hungry raccoons off of our patio and crash landed in the “real world” together. Dinner was one of our rituals, along with baking my grandmother’s east Tennessee biscuit recipe on lazy Saturdays. Saying goodbye to her and our old place in the same week made me feel especially grateful.
The new kitchen is beautiful. My roommate and I can comfortably cook, hang out, and dance to Taylor Swift’s new album in there without being anywhere close to knocking into each other. I had a field day organizing and cleaning the new space (my speciality) before gathering the courage to confront our electrical stove. I’ve only ever cooked with gas, since I grew up in hurricane country where power outages were a dime a dozen. Luckily, my roommate is a pro and agreed to coach me.
The dish: tacos!
I didn’t follow any kind of recipe. I just wound my way through Trader Joes, grabbing tortillas, ground turkey, and pretty veggies (along with Scandinavian Swimmers, my vice). I chopped up half of the onion smoothly. I think I’ve finally mastered the ‘right’ way to cut it up where you don’t cry so much. (Although that didn’t mean no tears were involved.) I didn’t cut anything but the onion though, which I count as a major success.
I cooked the onion and turkey slowly, mixing it with my homemade spice combo, fiddling with the dials until I found the right spot on the heat. I grilled a beautiful orange bell pepper and made guacamole from scratch with one ripe avocado, multi-color cherry tomatoes, lime juice, and probably a little too much cilantro.
After heating up the tortillas, I got to build up the final product. Not professional but not bad! With all the bowls laid out on the counter, all that space feels like a total luxury.
Four spoons for taste. Three for execution!
Also, I learned (thanks to a lot of smoke) that electrical burners take a long time to cool down. Thanks to my roommate for the assist!
ac&ar 