I know I’m really just perpetuating the problems with stereotyping in our culture, but for some reason, I find racist jokes pretty hilarious… I mean, as long as they don’t cross a line, of course. In my world, a little bit of harmless racism can be quite hilarious. For instance, I heard this joke when I was probably in 4th grade or so:
An Italian, a Scotsman, and a Chinese fellow were hired at a construction site. The foreman pointed out a huge pile of sand and told the Italian guy, “You’re in charge of sweeping.” To the Scotsman he said, “You’re in charge of shoveling.” And to the Chinese guy, “You’re in charge of supplies.”
He then said, “Now, I have to leave for a little while. I expect you guys to make a dent in that there pile.”
The foreman went away for a of couple hours, and, when he returned, the pile of sand was untouched. He asked the Italian, “Why didn’t you sweep any of it?” The Italian replied, “I no hava no broom. You said to the Chinese fella that he a wasa in a charge of supplies, but he hasa disappeared and I no coulda finda him nowhere.” Then the foreman turned to the Scotsman and said, “And you, I thought I told you to shovel this pile.”
The Scotsman replied, “Aye, ye did lad, boot ah couldnay get meself a shoovel! Ye left th’ Chinese gadgie in chairge of supplies, boot ah couldnay fin’ him either.” The foreman was really angry by now and stormed off toward the pile of sand to look for the Chinese guy.
Just then, the Chinese guy jumped out from behind the pile of sand and yelled…
BAHAHA. I’m pretty sure I fell off my chair laughing at this joke, mostly because it’s true. My mom really does say “surprise” like that, along with the rest of my Asian relatives. In my mind, this joke isn’t “racist” because it’s true!
But enough of that. The theme to tonight’s post is… SURPRISES!
More importantly, life’s little surprises.
Like when you go to the bathroom due to #1 and your body surprises you with a gigantic #2.
Or when you find a random $5 bill in your old jeans pocket. (or better yet, when you fit your old jeans.)
Or when you find out that Community is finally coming back on.
Or when you wake up and find that your crazy psycho roommate has cleaned and sanitized the entire house just to avoid studying for her pharmacy exams.
Or when you find a half-eaten Ho-Ho in the couch cushions.
The list goes on and on.
Some surprises are better than others. I’m never really all that pleased when a birdie that I already hate decides to give me a “special gift” from above. But what can you do? You have to take the good with the bad; the “30 Rock” with the “Toddlers and Tiaras,” Hershey’s Special Dark Chocolate with Mr. Goodbars, the Harry Potter with the Twilight.
(Apparently all I can think to write tonight is a bunch of lists. So sorry.)
Anyways, I feel like there were a bunch of surprises last week!
For one, I went winetasting, got pretty buzzed, and then got offered a new job. But that was probably the least exciting surprise.
The medium-sized surprise was being invited over for a homecooked meal with Christina Ly’s mom… AT THE NOTORIOUS DONUT SHOP. I spent hours preparing for what I thought was going to be a “my friend’s mom and me” type of date, but turns out she just cooked enough food for a village and then watched me eat it with Christina. So yeah, you can pretty much sum it up to a 50% awesome 50% disappointing surprise. I’m really good at flattering parents, so I thought I would get another chance to wiggle my way into a possible adoption with the Ly’s, but I guess I’ll have to settle for wiggling further into Christina’s heart.
But yes, the grand finale! The big, jackpot surprise of pre- St. Patty’s day week! (sidenote: what does St. Patrick’s Day celebrate? The birth of leprechauns? When is it national unicorn day?)
I don’t know how normal people typically respond to grocery ads, but in our house, we treat them like they’re letters from N*Sync-era Justin Timberlake. Or maybe Friends with Benefits JT? We’ll take either. But yes, come Wednesday afternoons, we scurry around the dinner table, searching the papers like treasure maps. To preface this elaborately short story, Judy and I have been experiencing wildly chaotic food cravings ever since we started turning into meatheads. AKA, we’re ravenous. At all times of the day. So you can only imagine what it’s like when we peruse the food-porn. We also have a deeply-seeded problem with too much food inventory. Our fridge and pantry suffer what I can only assume China and India are experiencing population-wise. We hear the cabinets groaning with fatigue as we make an overly extensive shopping list and reluctantly decide to scour through the slums, searching for any usable ingredients.
An hour later and that original reluctance has turned into excitement– going through our freezer was like going through a time capsule! Minus all the worms and (I wish I could say) decay, of course. I pull out a gallon-sized ziploc bag of mystery and notice Judy is holding another bag with very similar contents. We’re scientists, of course, so we whip out the microscope and titraters and eventually figure out that it’s a 10 lbs of leftover turkey meat from Thanksgiving with my folks. At first fear strikes our eyes… WTF are we going to do with 10 lbs of turkey?! The only person who seems overjoyed is Gambit. He jumps around on an invisible pogo-stick begging for the tryptophan. Slowly, we realize that we’ve stumbled upon a blank canvas, and we can pretty much make WTH we want!
CLEAR THE FLOOR! IT’S TIME FOR AN INTERPRETIVE DANCE!
The brain juices get flowing (we may or may not have stumbled upon some questionable beer in the fridge and used ourselves as test subjects to see whether or not beer goes bad*).
The room goes silent and still.
I close my eyes.
At first, all I can hear is Gambit begging for me Thom to cuddle with him. eeeehn- eeeehn- eeeehn.
Then a piece of foil from a Costco hot dog is heard rustling in the wind. chiiiiii- chiiiiii- chiiiiii.
Kelis walks into our house all of a sudden and starts singing about her milkshakes. La-La La-La La.
What’s that computer operating system that came before Windows again? Oh yeah. Dos.
I don’t know how, and I don’t know from where, but I figured it out: we’ll make enchiladas!
So… SUPPLIES! Here’s my super makeshift recipe for some pretty bomb enchiladas, and a surefire way to get rid of random turkey meat you find in your freezer.
Alexha’s Racist Enchiladas:
- 1 medium onion
- 2 lbs (ish) shredded turkey meat
- 1 large can enchilada sauce (I used Las Palmas because it’s spicy. I’m a working woman, alright? I can spare a shortcut here or there.)
- 1 can fire-roasted green chilies
- 8 flour tortillas
- Mexican blend cheese
- sour cream (or yogurt, for you healthy folks)
Does your unpacked grocery bag look like this?
Yes? Awesome. Let’s get started!
- Dice the onion and throw it into the slow cooker with the turkey.
- Grab your can opener and get some arm exercises in. Open the enchilada sauce and green chilies and add them to the pot.
- Hold the pot at about waist level, turn on Apache, and do a quick few hip swirls to mix semi-mix the ingredients. Set the timer for about 2 hours. *I chose to slow cook the turkey out of fear that its frozen origin would render it dry. If you know for a fact that your meat is nice and juicy (bahahaha), give the onions a quick saute in olive oil on a hot pan and then add the meat, sauce, and chilies. Let simmer for about 15 minutes.
- While you’re waiting for the meat to stew, line up your boxes of Girl Scout cookies on the counter. Blindfold your roommate and take her to the kitchen. Shove her into the counter where the boxes are neatly sitting. The first one she touches on her way to smashing her face becomes the box you should devour while skimming through Hunger Games for the next 2 hours.
- When the timer is about to go off, lightly oil a casserole dish with olive oil to ensure that the tortillas won’t stick to the bottom when they bake.
- Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. (Yes, I got too lazy to clear out our real oven so I used the small convection oven.)
- Remove the chicken/onions/chilies mix from the sauce and spoon generous portions onto the tortillas.
- Roll the tortillas up like you’re rolling up a newspaper to smash a fly and then place them seam-side down on the casserole dish.
- Pour the sauce over the tortilla rolls and then top it all off with fistfuls of cheese. NOT TINY SPRINKLINGS. We’re talking a HAILSTORM of cheese, none of that drizzling crap.
- Foil and let bake for 20 minutes. Remove the foil and bake an additional 5 minutes. Carefully take it out of the oven and then start fanning the aroma towards your roommate’s room.
- Serve with sour cream (or plain yogurt) and lots more cheese!
I really wish our kitchen didn’t have such warm lighting. Probably has to do with some sort of symbolism. Like how our house is so cozy and warm, like a fireplace. Or how we’re so hot. Who knows?
I’m glad it’s been cold lately. Enchiladas are pretty comforting to me. Well, maybe not comforting? Reassuring? They make me feel like… like if I were to have a bad day and then the bartender buys me a drink and gives me one of those “life is bullshit, it’ll get better” winks. You know what I’m talking about. The non-creepy kind of free-drink-wink that bartenders give you.
Anyways, life isn’t bullshit. It’s full of SUPPLIES!…es.
*I’m obviously kidding. Beer never lasts long enough in this household to even get a chance to go bad. You have better chances finding the end of a rainbow whilst riding on your centaur boyfriend than finding expired alcohol here!