I am here to tell you, there really is such a thing as TOO MUCH OF THE MEXICAN FOOD.
Last Saturday evening, miracle of miracles, my good friend Cindabel made it up to my neck of the woods (hereafter referred to as "God's Country" or just "GC" for short). The reason she made it up here was because her husband and son were going to the Elton John/Billy Joel concert that I wanted to go to but a) couldn't see paying that much for tickets, b) didn't want to fight traffic to find parking, c) thought Hubster would sooner pull out his eyebrow hair than go, and d) decided I was just too tired to fight it all.
I am the Energizer Bunny in disguise.
Cindabel's parents live up here in GC, so she decided to take the opportunity to visit them. And while she was here, she decided to get the pesky let's-have-dinner-and-actually-SEE-each-other-instead-of-texting-and-talking-on-the-phone-once-a-year thing over with, too.
She is such a multi-tasker.
And so it happened that we came together to eat Mexican food on Saturday night. I introduced her to a little hole-in-the-wall that usually has really good food. Of course, on this night it was below par. All, that is, except for the mild sauce. I could drink the mild sauce as a beverage with every meal if it wasn't so chunky with grated vegetables. I could bathe in it, but let's face it, that would be just plain weird.
What I did do was try to talk Cindabel out of liking it. And when I didn't succeed, I bought a pint to take home.
I hid the pint in the fridge because The Girl is a well-known Sauce Letch. If she sees it, she Hoovers it up in her yam before you can even get the word "DON'T!!!" out of your mouth.
Tuesday The Girl wanted tacos. Being as I was feeling magnanimous, I took her and her brother to the same place for Taco Tuesday. The Sauce Letch glommed on to the bowl of mild sauce brought for our table, and within five minutes it was history.
She is also a bloodhound.
I came home Wednesday to a half-eaten pint of sauce. I was NOT a happy camper. And so I had the rest for dinner, holding it close and muttering "...my Preciousssss...." all the while.
Yes, the prescription is being refilled. Hush.
Then last night we had the infamous Wrestling Banquet. I told Hubster on the way there that we would have one of two things, Italian ala Olive Garden, or some sort of Mexican, most likely tacos. I felt it in my bones. I was leaning more toward the Mexican.
And the banquet, it did not disappoint.
There on the buffet table were pans and pans of burritos and enchiladas and beans and rice and chips....BUT WAIT!!! What was THAT???
A huge pan of my favorite mild sauce. Which, by now, was something I was hoping NOT to see for a while.
The banquet had been catered by my hole-in-the-wall restaurant.
So today, Ladies and Gents? After what amounts to four - count 'em - FOUR - dinners from the same Mexican restaurant in less than a week....
I'm headed out for sushi.