Thursday
28 June
This is
something we do with vaguely Mexican leftover ingredients when it's too hot to
run the oven for Chilaquiles.
In this
case, we fried up a half pound of Charles Bare bulk sausage, seasoned with
ground cumin, coriander, and a little medium Chimayo chile. Then we made a salsa of Farmers' Market
tomatillos (Holt bought out the stall on Saturday) whizzed up with white onion
and cilantro, and dressed with lime.
The
drained juice from that salsa, incidentally, made a very refreshing drink when
chilled and mixed with reposado tequila and ice; Holt thought it should be
named something like Colorless Green Ideas Sleep Furiously (he is a linguist,
after all), but Barbara voted for Tomatillaquila.
Oh, back
to dinner. A layer of tortilla
chips got spread on two oven-proof dishes, topped with the drained salsa and
now-chorizo-like sausage, and scattered with a mixture of cheeses, jack and
colby eked out with swiss (too thick, but it's what we had). Then the dishes sat under the broiler
until the cheeses melted, and we snarfed them down with a couple of beers.
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