Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Regular friends of the decanter will know that Ol’ Robbo generally does the cooking at Port Swiller Manor on the weekends.

This evening I decided to do a taco bar, in part because of simplicity, in part because it’s something everyone will actually eat.  (Eldest is home visiting, so there are four of us.)

Alas, I just now discovered that the package of taco spice I picked up earlier is meant for chicken or fish, not the hamburger I intend to use.

How do you like that?  Not only cultural appropriation, but incompetent cultural appropriation!

Well, the devil with it.  The spices must flow!

(By the bye, when I become Emperor of the World, fish tacos will be banned permanently.  What a revolting idea.)

UPDATE:  Huzzay! Huzzah!  Poking about in the back of the pantry, Ol’ Robbo came across an only partially-used packet of the correct spice.  (Although, truth be told, after sampling both I’m not sure I could tell you any real difference between them.)

My mother used to comment now and again about the apparently large dollop of Fool’s Luck with which I seem to have been born.  I guess I haven’t maxed out on it yet.