the mexican flop.
i have evolved into quite the mexican cook, mind you. i have tried dozens, like think more between 20-30 mexican recipes in the last 4 years ( just ask drew). I have a repertoire of mexican recipes and meals that first-timers like. first-time mexican eaters, that is.
and so far, every Lebanese, syrian and jordanian that i have given my tasty goodness to has really like the food.
we had ourselves a major mexican flop, folks.
like face slightly burning, feel like anne-of-green-gables-in-a-scrape, and food tastes like ash in my mouth.
It started out so glorious. a syrian refugee family was coming over to my house for dinner. the house was clean, the girls were asleep, i was humming and singing and rolling and making tortillas. i had already made salsa...i had one mexican part of the meal ( chipotle chicken bowls) in the crock pot and was working on the taco bar feel. i was full of domestic cheer.
It was 3 days before christmas, and i had been Miss Baker-Sue, but i felt so giddy. i was getting to have syrian friends, who had fled their country, over to my house. to let them feel seen and heard. to process some of the stuff they have been through. to shower them with love. and of course for them to feel lavished on by a feast. i was only cooking for 7 adults, but i basically cooked as though for 21 people. lots of food.
and i sang and twirled, made guacamole and made rice. Drew brought them in ( he had picked them up in our car) and the house was clean, the girls were happy, and dinner was ready.
we visited a bit, which is custom. and then i said...in arabic...the food is ready, so let's go eat.
We sat down to the table, and i explained how to make tacos, how to put on toppings, how to add this and that, and served up their chicken taco bowls. As they started to eat, i watched as one after another winced. like choke-the-food-down. the 12 year old runs up to me and asks for water like he is desperate. my heart sinks, to put it lightly.
so there you go. the feast that i had labored with so much love was a total flop. they were gracious. they acted as though they liked it. but i watched them pick, scoot, and choke down food and it just was so so so embarrassing.
luckily the vanilla-iced-pumpkin-spice cookies were a hit. they ate a lot of those.
they chased down the girls, played and cuddled. oh, and of course the mother, the matriarch did my dishes while i dried. she insisted. and cleaned my sink. and looked at my hand soap and asked is she could clean the container, it looked a little grimy. sheesh.
and so far, every Lebanese, syrian and jordanian that i have given my tasty goodness to has really like the food.
we had ourselves a major mexican flop, folks.
like face slightly burning, feel like anne-of-green-gables-in-a-scrape, and food tastes like ash in my mouth.
It started out so glorious. a syrian refugee family was coming over to my house for dinner. the house was clean, the girls were asleep, i was humming and singing and rolling and making tortillas. i had already made salsa...i had one mexican part of the meal ( chipotle chicken bowls) in the crock pot and was working on the taco bar feel. i was full of domestic cheer.
It was 3 days before christmas, and i had been Miss Baker-Sue, but i felt so giddy. i was getting to have syrian friends, who had fled their country, over to my house. to let them feel seen and heard. to process some of the stuff they have been through. to shower them with love. and of course for them to feel lavished on by a feast. i was only cooking for 7 adults, but i basically cooked as though for 21 people. lots of food.
and i sang and twirled, made guacamole and made rice. Drew brought them in ( he had picked them up in our car) and the house was clean, the girls were happy, and dinner was ready.
we visited a bit, which is custom. and then i said...in arabic...the food is ready, so let's go eat.
 |
| i took a picture when i had set the table with toppings... |
We sat down to the table, and i explained how to make tacos, how to put on toppings, how to add this and that, and served up their chicken taco bowls. As they started to eat, i watched as one after another winced. like choke-the-food-down. the 12 year old runs up to me and asks for water like he is desperate. my heart sinks, to put it lightly.
so there you go. the feast that i had labored with so much love was a total flop. they were gracious. they acted as though they liked it. but i watched them pick, scoot, and choke down food and it just was so so so embarrassing.
luckily the vanilla-iced-pumpkin-spice cookies were a hit. they ate a lot of those.
the mexican food was a fail, but the evening was beautiful. we talked,laughed, shared stories and connected deeper. We processed and listened about their previous life, their escape, and what life has been in Lebanon these past 4 months.
they chased down the girls, played and cuddled. oh, and of course the mother, the matriarch did my dishes while i dried. she insisted. and cleaned my sink. and looked at my hand soap and asked is she could clean the container, it looked a little grimy. sheesh.
but such a privilege to be with this family. to go deeper into their hearts. i pray they will come over again, even after the scare they have had. ha!
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