Paper thin soft chewy, Sonoran-style flour tortilla

[ezcol_1half] For a couple years now, I've been taking jabs at creating the perfect flour tortillas. Now, any conversation evoking the word "perfect" ought to be subject to a clearer definition, doesn't it?  So here is mine.  The perfect flour tortilla, in my view, should be unleavened (otherwise it's just a thin pita), translucent, thin but elastic, flavorful enough to be a standalone enjoyment, and above all else, embodying a soft chewiness that you could feel in between bites. It's safe to say that the recipes I used over the years didn't stray far from the typical ones floating around the internet, more or less, kneading flour, warm water (often ambiguous on the exact temperature), some sort of animal fat all together which is rolled out and toasted on a skillet.  Simple, yes, and those aren't horrible either.  Anything containing that amount of lard just can't be.  But in the end

Overnight Taco Meat and Dripping Tortilla Non-recipe

[ezcol_1fifth]-[/ezcol_1fifth] [ezcol_3fifth] This is an easy, and my first "non-recipe" that I'm leaving you with before heading off to Scotland on a hubby-forced whiskey tour. What's a non-recipe you ask.  Well, to my understanding, it means it's a general guideline of techniques that one can use to adapt to a variety of ingredients.  In fact, I wasn't really planning on publishing this as a post, as I was simply putting a random dinner together and mid-way through, thought that this is actually a great way of anxiety-free entertaining  so why not share it. So essentially, blah blah blah, what I'm talking about is this.  You take a big hunk of fatty cut of meat, in this case, beef short ribs, but it could be pork belly, whole duck, ox tongue or whatever available in other marvelous circumstances.  Then you leave this hunk of meat alone in its marinate for a good 12 hours, in this case, a red wine concoction, but it could be whatever bath of flavors that you could humanly imagine.  Then the night before you serve, you wrap it in foil and throw it in utter abandonment inside a low-heat oven and then, you go to sleep.  The next morning,

JERKED SRIRACHA ROAST PORK TACOS W KIWI SALSA VERDE

[ezcol_2third][/ezcol_2third] [ezcol_1third_end]  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.

VIETNAMESE Chả Cá FISH TACO

[ezcol_2third] [/ezcol_2third] [ezcol_1third_end] WE FOUND OUR WEAKENED FOOTSTEPS AT ITS TURQUOISE COLORED DOORWAY THE official statement is, that like all other celebratory spirits who paint golden eggs on Easter, play Frank Sinatra on X'mas and wash their faces with Buffalo wings on Superbowl, we the family of forever-festivity, ate tacos on Cinco de Mayo and danced to a whirlpool of margaritas this past Sunday. [/ezcol_1third_end][ezcol_2third] [/ezcol_2third] [ezcol_1third_end] But the truth, is actually far more exciting than that.  Over the past long weekend, a siege of timely but inconvenient stomach-flu had, and still is, rendering me immobile.  Timely, because someone, or something, has got to make me drop this bag of cookies immediately.  Inconvenient however

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