My apartment mate is hogging the kitchen cooking up a big batch of something with chicken and mushroom to take over to her boyfriend's place. Which, I guess, means that I will be having a burrito around the corner tonight. With lots of salsa de arbol. You know, I have never understood the American penchant for swilling buckets of beer with every non-Anglo dinner. Indian food? Beer! Pizza? Beer! Hunan? Beer! Jamaican jerk chicken? Beer! Burmese spicy mohinga? Beer! Bratwurst mit shnitzli und blaukraut? Beer! Chip and dip? Beer! Uitsmijter met kaas en ham? Bier!
And anything Mexican? Beer!
Personally, I am not so much into beer.
I think a burrito would be so much better with an amontillado.
Good lord, she's singing in there! I know we have no cooking sherry at present, and she's never done drugs.
Some kind of opera. Italian words.
Sometimes a man needs a burrito.
Carnitas. Salsa de chiles arbol.
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