Saturday Dinner: Shot-And-A-Beer Pork

“I want comfort food.”

The Wife makes this pronouncement frequently during the winter, a statement that typically results in my braising something. Short ribs. Pot roast. Chicken. Short ribs.

“I think I want Mexican.”

She took an interesting turn. Mexican comfort food usually results in Chipotle or a trip to The Mission. I wasn’t really interested making a messy enchilada or cooking all day to make a burrito. I thought maybe posole, a rich stew made with hominy, might work but time was going to be an issue and, from what I can tell, a good posole needs a solid six hours to simmer. I would have half that.

I came across this recipe at one of those aggregators that pop up at the top of the Google results when you search for something. Booze works for me, as does pork shoulder. I mean, you can never go wrong with pork shoulder.

Monday dinner: Stuffed poblano peppers

Good poblanos are tough to come by in Syracuse, N.Y.

My first encounter came at the now-shuttered La Hacienda in North Las Vegas, a taco stand where my aunt complained that the music was too damn loud to hear the waitress. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the volume was irrelevant because the waitress didn’t speak English. The best I can come by here is El Canelo, an underrated Mexican restaurant on Bridge Street in East Syracuse. The peppers are fire-roasted, then fried, and served with melted cheese in a slightly-spicy red sauce.

Wednesday dinner: Black bean burgers

As I type this, The Baby is crying; her noisy protest of my refusal to pick her up. She should be in the other room watching Elmo with The Wife. I happened to move my MacBook Pro into the kitchen and The Baby clearly thought I was inviting her along.

“Bay-beesh,” was followed with a cry. The Baby, in her best Paul Pasqualoni imitation, believes that our iPhones, iPad and collected computers serve no other purpose but to display photos of her for the express purpose of her enjoyment. If she was in her 30s, we would call this sociopathic behavior. But, since she turns two in June, we’ll simply call her a toddler. (Side note: I highly recommend Jon Ronson‘s The Psychopath Test.)