JERKED SRIRACHA ROAST PORK TACOS W KIWI SALSA VERDE

JERKED SRIRACHA ROAST PORK TACOS W KIWI SALSA VERDE

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 WHY CAN’T WE ALL JUST BEHAVE LIKE TACOS?

I don’t know, if there was any other single food-item in this world that, in the best sense possible, welcomes manipulations as much as say, tacos.

I mean think about it.  In this world where the not-so-secret food-police who enforces the law of authenticity, still patrols much of the way we perceive and evaluate what and how we eat, this iconic Mexican establishment seems to be freely, and deliciously if I might add, looming well outside of its strict jurisdiction.  They have applaudedly gone over and beyond their traditional origins, shown more adaptability and dare I say, humour, that’s unbound by the narrowness of ethnicity without muss or fuss.  How does it do it?  This means, to me at least, more than eating.  If you just take a look at this mad house we’re all living under now – where you can’t cook a pot of bolognese sauce without turning some Italian nonna in her graves, or enjoy any other blurred out version of mapo tofu without stepping on some bitches’ toes (who me?), or fucking crack a joke without hate – it would appear that, fingers crossed, the modern tacos are practically a beacon for social miracles.  This is not me saying pure authenticity, in food or anything else, is bad, nor is it good.  I guess, it’s only natural, a mean for us to identify with something, to belong, to cling onto a place in this world where we could find familiarity, call it pride, then do things to defend it.  But here we are stuck, on this globe that we were told is supposed to be getting smaller and smaller by the days, and inherently for the same reason, more and more hostile by the minute.  Diehard authenticity can taste more intolerant than delicious.  And I mean that in a lot more ways than foods.  So I guess here’s my question:

Why can’t we all just behave like tacos?

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Tacos are friendly.  Tacos are embracive.  Tacos love being Korean just as much as they love being Mexican, and cares more about deliciousness than righteousness, and if only we could all talk this way out of our issues.  Like how this conversation begin with the aroma that permeates the apartment when this big hunk of fat-marbled pork-butt roasts slowly in a sriracha-based sauce blended with Jamaican jerk-seasonings like ground allspice, cinnamon, cloves, freshly thymes, soy sauce and whatnots, until fork tender and sticky.  Then it is fiercely chopped, with only love, into small bite-size pieces that get married back into its own spicy braising liquid, just so it could smoothly negotiate with a creamy and cooling dollop of avocado sour cream-mash.  The finely minced tomato, shallot and cilantro salad agreed to its terms to bring refreshment and bites, while a contrasting voice of spicy salsa verde made of pureed kiwi, cilantro and green chilis, squirts its heated opinions all over the party.  But ultimately, in cheers and toasts, everything welds into a mouthful of crazy goodness on top warm flour tortillas.  It’s a melting pot within a melting pot.  A true joint effort with only delicious intentions.  And it’s the greatest testimony that even a seemingly chaotic and separate bunch of flavours or perspectives, can all together, work into an epic meal shared over a round table with laughters and mutual satisfactions.

Maybe, of course, we can’t all be like tacos.  After all, we’re only humans.  But one giant bite at these tacos.  A small leap, to me at least, for hope in mankind.

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