Ciscos’ Huevos Rancheros And Carta Blanca Beer; Hoo Dogies

 

So. Since it rained stuff has started to grow here in Central Texas. I guess we’ve been under drought conditions for so long our plants have decided they live in a desert. The entire area was brown and wilted as I drove across town in Monday afternoon’s 105-degree heat. Today, I’ve got my green Austin, Texas back. Bing, bang and boom– we’re green again.

The benefits of a Nitrogen-rich rain are visible everywhere, but no place more than in our big garden. Tall plants, like sweet corn and okra, were looking like old men– stooped and tired. They now stand like proud soldiers at full attention.

All of the fruits in the garden have soaked their fill and swollen to bursting. That includes all the melons, cukes, and squashies. I took the animals down early this morning to harvest for the Food Bank. Yesterday was our usual harvest day but it was too muddy. Rush Limbaugh would have made a huge mess if I’d let him slop in the waterlogged trenches.

After dropping the bushel baskets of food off, we stopped by Ciscos over on East Cesar Chavez and I got us all huevos rancheros for breakfast. We love huevos rancheros and Ciscos makes them mighty fine. OK, since I don’t take Rick Perry and Rush Limbaugh to town as a routine practice, I got Squirt and Honor the cat a similar breakfast plate to my own.

We sat on the tailgate of the farm truck and ate our eggs with a single bottle of Carta Blanca beer. Any Mexican foodstuff goes better with Carta Blanca beer, and at any time of day. La cerveza es mas fina– Cerveza Carta Blanca.

This was Honor’s first plate of the runny-egged goodness that is huevos rancheros. She was a hoot as she poked the jiggly yolks, gently prodding until the first one broke. The single dollop of bright yolk that stuck to her paw was carefully examined with kitty eyes and nose, and then, very carefully, her pink tongue edged from her mouth to barely touch it.

Thirty seconds later her plate looked like it had been through the “Heavy Wash” cycle on the commercial dishwasher back to the ranch.

This will be a short bloggie dealie because to date, today has been just that uneventful. For some reason my ADHD and its little brother, the ADD, are in some sort of remission. I know they’ll be back and back soon. Manana, y’all.

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5 Responses to “Ciscos’ Huevos Rancheros And Carta Blanca Beer; Hoo Dogies”

  1. Squatlo says:

    I wish we had the land available to grow enough to share on a major league level like The Food Bank. I surely would… but we barely get enough out of our little 25′ x 50′ garden to make tilling worthwhile. So far this summer we’ve harvested a total of three red tomatoes. Three. Not bushels, not quarts… tomatoes.

    Sigh…

  2. Squat. You had bad weather that stunted growth. But stand back. The compost you used will provide a power boost now that things have warmed there. Patience is a pain in the ass, but virtuous none the less.

    Having said that, have you ever tasted homemade smoked ketchup?

  3. Alright Mooner, ya cracked my ass up so good the other day, I couldn’t help but put ya on the Blogroll at Ornery Bastard, Squatlo too.

    BTW, I hope to shout we ain’t related.
    My momma’s maiden name was Johnson and I have relatives all over the South. She and Grand Pappy was from Missouri but I do recall there was a batch down in Texas too.

    Let me tell ya the short version story of some strange relatives dog humping my leg at supper time with a room full of people I never met before, in Texas.
    I tried being polite but after so long, I slammed that suckers head up against the bottom of the table so hard all the water glasses jumped. So did everyone at the table.

    Fuck you FIFI.

  4. I’m with Squat. I haven’t even had ONE tomato come in yet. Only a couple of green ones on the plants right now. WTF?!! I have had two delicious squash come in. But seriously – my garden is killing me with disappointment. BTW, when is Honor going to go live with Dr. Sam? I’m betting she’ll refuse to leave you and Squirt!

  5. Busted. We have some strange redneck customs here to Texas. Some men have unusual attachments to their furry friends.

    Reck. Hi, baby. Your tomatoes will be fine by mid-July and I’ll be envious of you. As for the cat– who fucking knows. Cats are like women to me. I don’t know Squat– bwa ha ha.

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