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.