Wednesday, July 23, 2014

I Believe in Tacos


Well hello there, strangers.

Hi. I haven't been around in, oh, about a week.
But I had my reasons.

I just spent four days in Arkansas with most of the (in)courage contributors, and I learned a few things while I was gone, things like Don't Forget To Pack Deodorant, and If You Do, Pray For A Really Generous Roommate With A Low Germaphobe Index.

Give me a little space, an extra glug of oxygen and air, and I end up figuring out what I believe in. I believe in not opening the laptop for 5 days straight. I believe in crazy wallpaper. I believe (still) that gingham is a neutral.

I believe I landed the best kids and husband on the planet.

I believe there's a thread of solidarity and humanity stitched between every woman. I believe our differences make us stronger. I believe in telling the truth.

I believe in lime La Croix. I believe God loves me enough to draw me in and settle me down, every time, no matter what.

I believe the best way to keep writing is to sometimes stop for a while.

I believe in affirming each other and not laughing when I am affirmed. (I believe I still need help with this.)

I believe in tacos.

If I have one regret from my time away it's that I didn't properly prioritize the taco truck across from the hotel. I just can't shake the guilt.

Which may explain why the first thing I did after coming home and tucking my babies in was to plate up one of my favorite meals in the history of always. At 9 pm.

Because I believe a pork taco with asian slaw is a perfectly acceptable re-entry plan.


{I swear there's meat under there...}

Pork Tacos with Asian Slaw

2 T chili powder
1 T coarse salt
2 tsp cumin
1 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp crushed red pepper
pinch of cloves or cinnamon
1 bay leaf

Combine all spices except bay leaf and rub into all sides of a pork roast.
Sear rubbed roast over high heat in a skillet, until browned and a crust begins to form.

Transfer roast to a slow cooker.

While skillet is still hot, pour 1/2 cup of water (or stock/broth) into the pan, deglazing the browned bits from the roast.

Pour this "broth" over the roast. Top with 1 bay leaf, or 2 if you're wild like me.

Cook on low for 8-10 hours.

I usually check the meat an hour or so before dinner. If it's not falling apart yet, I crank the cooker up to high.

When meat is tender, pull it apart with two forks.

Chop half a head of cabbage and mix with the juice of one lime, a little salt, and a couple glugs of Thai chili sauce.

I like my tacos topped with sour cream mixed with a little chipotle-in-adobo, sliced avocado, and a hearty drizzle of Sriracha.

PS - Robert (snifffff) taught me to cook the tortillas over the "eye", which translates to holding each tortilla over the open flame of my gas stove and setting off the smoke alarm approximately 62 times over the course of the 8 months he lived with us. Be careful doing this. Be ye not distracted. But oh, WILL YOU EVER BE A BELIEVER.