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.
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