Barbarian hordes visiting? Huns coming over for board games? Or, are you just spending a quiet afternoon at home with the fam? This recipe will keep you ahead of the pack. Maybe.
It was a Sunday like many others. We were enjoying the nothingness when organic corn chips in the kitchen apparently sounded an alarm. As if on cue, all testosterone laden individuals rose up from the couch in unison. Lock step they went into the kitchen to initiate a feeding frenzy. The target was home made nachos. And, "So what?," I thought. It was the first of many mistakes I would make that day.
It was a nice calm Sunday until....
What could be the harm? Nachos on a Sunday afternoon. How sublime. But, that's because I wasn't in the kitchen to see two pounds of hamburger being cooked and stirred. Sure, I knew hamburger was cooking, but TWO POUNDS? Never would it have occurred to me. I was a babe and uninitiated into the world of MACHO NACHOS. Katie bar the door!
Would two and a half pounds of chips be enough?
And, you know those BIG $5 bags of organic corn chips at COSTCO? The chips who felt macho enough to sound the nacho alarm in the first place? Well, who would dream the ENTIRE BAG would be stacked up in a ROASTING PAN to make a corn chip mountain? Common sense would dictate reasonable portions, but no, the feeding frenzy preparation was in full swing.
Fit for a king or restaurant parties of ten.
A WHOLE JAR of organic jalapenos and TWO POUNDS of shredded Amish raw milk cheese complemented the TWO RIPE ORGANIC AVACADOS added to the WHOLE JAR of organic salsa. All of this was transported into the oven via a system of steampunk wenches, pullies and airlifts. The shear weight of the snack was too much to lift by mortal muscles alone as it was left to bake at 325 degrees for 45 minutes. An understated garnish of a TUB of Organic Sour Cream and a sliced ENTIRE BUNCH of spring onions delicately tickled the eye.
Ceiling Cam shot of the HALF PINT sour cream application.
And, none of this did I know until the roasting pan of MACHO NACHOS was wheeled out into the living room by a legion of gladiators using ropes and rolling logs to lessen the friction of the feast traveling over the living room rug. I was left to feel the pain as chip crumbs, melted cheese, jalapeno juice and salsa seeds flew in my direction. I put on an old camping rain poncho to weather the storm.
All of which leaves me to say it will be a long time before unsupervised chefs are allowed in the kitchen again. My life is a nightmare. Save. Me.