I have such fond memories of my maternal great-grandmother, Viola Coleman.
I spent quite a bit of time with her -- and my maternal grandmother -- as a child. I particularly recall spending nights with my great grandmother who was gracious enough to let me sleep in her bed, nudged between her and her husband.
I was a wild sleeper, so someone was bound to get a toe lodged in their back. Strangely, they continued to let me sleep with them for time some until, alas, it proved to be too much. She eventually set up shop for me in her sewing room. That may well have been the very moment I developed a terrible fear of porcelain dolls! Hum....
In addition to my 6-year-old self enjoying playing in her front yard, leaping from the porch onto the dense grass and running up and down the driveway, I so enjoyed our mornings together. She would wake somewhere around 4:30 or 5 and go about her morning routine. I knew it was time to wake when I smelled the familiar deep, meaty and slightly spicy smell of chorizo.
I would leap up so excited sometimes that she would have to remind me to wash my face and hands and to brush my teeth before breakfast!
How I loved chorizo. She instilled the desire in me to have it for breakfast every weekend. *long, deep sigh full of rememberence* I never had it otherwise. Chorizo wasn't something my parents often prepared. But somehow me and my great-grandmother seemed to have it quite often.
Of course I fully acknowledge that my memories may be somewhat biased.
Anyway, my great-grandmother would take the chorizo block and put it in a skillet, gradually breaking it apart as it cooked. I don't recall her adding anything to the mix -- no vegetables, no spices, no oil. Just the chorizo. But when nearly cooked through, she would drop in fresh eggs.
Sometimes she would call me to breakfast -- always waking me gently -- or I would naturally wake to that wondrous, fragrant smell and her smiling face.
So while doing the grocery shopping tonight, I took great interest in the pork chorizo in the meat section. It wasn't in the usual block, but in a casting. How strange. But I was not in the mood for much else, I grabbed a package and was on my way.
I opted not to cook it with eggs -- though that was my first inclination. I decided to mix it with jazmine rice instead.
I put the rice on first, cooking it in the usual way. When it was halfway through, I put the chorizo in a skillet, adding a dab of butter once I put in the cooked rice. Meanwhile, I prepared a salad, cut up some avacado and then put the tortillas in a skillet with a little bit of mozerella.
Once the cheese was melted, I plated the tacos, adding the chorizo and rice mixture, then sprinkled the top with a littie bit more cheese and some slices of avacado.
The chorizo was not spicy, but the flavor was quite nice. I did not takes the way my great-grandmother made it, but -- still -- it reminded me of her in a way that I wished she were in the room, sitting across the table with her cup of coffee and that lovely, lovely grin on her face.
Who's That Girl
- Create. Snap. Eat.
- WHO'S THAT GIRL: A higher education obsessed foodie who is documenting her life in the kitchen. I love to cook delicious, gourmet-style foods for those I love and always welcome a challenge in the kitchen. With that challenge comes an impromptu nature. I tend to avoid following recipes to the exact, so you are not likely to find very many posted here. Being that I am a Libra and am learning to be free in the kitchen, the story always goes, "A pinch of this and a smattering of that!" Thank you for visiting -- and happy reading!
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