We are having a BBQ at work today. There is some training going on, and we needed to provide lunch, so it was a natural thing for us to just have a BBQ. We're very good at it - and our reputation is well-known throughout the area - that's why they hold trainings here - in hopes that we'll have BBQ for lunch.
We have many Hispanic men that work for our branch - so BBQ around here means Carne Asada, Frijoles, Spanish Rice, Tortillas, Pico de Gallo, Guacamole, etc. It is a culinary masterpiece every time. Here's the part where I admit that I have absolutely nothing to do with the success of these BBQ's, aside from maybe picking up a dessert or two for after the carnage. The guys are in charge of the meat, and most of the time, one of their gracious wives makes all the side dishes - and boy, do they do a good job.
Insert - does anyone else find it a bit telling that I'm writing about this delectable food stuff, not even one post away from the one where I wrote about my weight watchers quest? Yes, I am a fallen being, with very little willpower, aside from God's grace and power.
Anyway, this BBQ happened to fall during spud harvest - a busy, busy time in our area. The gals who would usually donate their expertise are busy with various spud harvest type duties. So, it was either get the side dishes catered from a local Mexican restaurant, or brave it ourselves. Armed with a hand-written notebook paper recipes, bags of ingredients, and a firm resolve, we set out to dazzle them!
Darla, who has the best pico recipe anyway, worked on making the Pico and Guacamole. I muddled my way through the Spanish Rice recipe, the whole time worried about the amounts of spices, if it would taste good, etc, etc.
We used about 5 Weight Watchers points dipping chips in Guacamole and Pico, making sure we had the flavor we wanted. In my opinion, it's fabulous!
Then, three separate guys (including the one whom the rice recipe came from) came in to the office, either to scale their trucks or bringing paperwork, and said - it smells like home, or it smells just like my mom's house. I knew we'd hit the nail on the head!! WooHoo!! It's almost lunchtime, so we'll see if we pass inspection . . .