Monday, October 6, 2008
Tamalehawk isn't going to perch here and pretend he has an excuse for the stunning stretch of saturnine silence he has foisted upon his flock of fellow food followers. He's been soaring sullen and lateral over a littoral landscape feeding formidably, his journey charted solely in the folds of his curved bird mind.
He alights again on the brittle and neglected tractate with a tomatillo in repose, itself exposed with husk flaps akimbo. Having shucked and rinsed the intriguing veg, Tamalehawk roasted a host of tomatillos in the oven and, together with jalapeño and cilantro, made a salsa verde that might get elected for local salsa office. The main attraction: a frenzied foray into the realm of carnitas - pork shoulder marinated in a sauce including but not limited to three kinds of citrus, achiote paste, cilantro, garlic, and extra etcetera, and which completely ruined his leg feathers in a sudden spray from the blender - slow roasted, shredded, and bedded into heated tortillas. He couldn't help but top them with homemade pickled red onion, radishes, queso fresco, and más cilantro for a taco that would probably push any other taco down on the street without remorse.
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