taco fixings… on a plate

I am learning more and more about this thing called discipline and where I’m good at it:

– Cooking from scratch? Hells yeah.

– Work? Solid.

– Housework? So-so.

– Food? Aside from my mainstay – being vegetarian – not so much.

If I want a pickle, I’ll have a pickle. If I’m craving hummus, I’ll make it. And sadly, if a taco is not jiving with the mornings urges, I give in. I had my dad on the brain today and he, decidedly, did not regard tacos as meals. They were snacks… botanas. Tacos were for afternoon football games and mere appetizers to tide him over ’til the real meal was ready.

We’re having one of his classic meals this evening, served with a solid stack of corn tortillas on the side. There would have been some meat on his plate, but all the fresh fixings and rice (made with black bean broth instead of water) are echoes of the food that I grew up eating. Missing him and grateful that I can now spend time in the kitchen conjuring up his smile with a simple meal.

I’ll be back at my taco-cleansing tomorrow.