Monday, January 18, 2010

Answers to Your Questions #2


A: Yes, you should combine your breakfast and lunch leftovers and create the ultimate hybrid dessert: The Oatmeal Taco.

Step 1 - Lay out your tortilla of choice. My preference is soft, as it forms around the softness of the primary filling, but I can see how a hard shell might yield unexpectedly positive results, too.

Step 2 - Spread your base. Here, I've chosen Nutella. For me, this takes the place of refried beans, or some other sticky foundation on which to lay the remaining ingredients. Note: You don't have to go overboard; a little hazelnut-chocolate goes a long way.



Step 3 - Additional flavors/textures. I've used small dollops of Crunchy Natural Peanut Butter from Trader Joe's. (For my money, TJ's does the best natural peanut butter on a pure value basis. Not quite the stuff that Teddie's is, but for almost a dollar cheaper, it's tough to argue with the Hawaiian-shirted ones.)




Step 4 - The Oatmeal. And I don't mean any quick 1-minute stuff, or instant sugary packets with dinosaur eggs that reveal little candy-dinosaur pieces once you add milk. I mean real, normal, "slow" cooked Oats. I added raisins and a dash of cinnamon to mine.




Step 5 - The topping. Oatmeal isn't oatmeal without a sprinkling of brown sugar. Think of this as the shredded cheese of the standard taco. Some heap it on there; some add just a wee bit. This is your Oatmeal Taco, so do it up as you please.





Step 6 - Fold it up and nosh away.






Okay, to be honest, I was a tad skeptical of the O.T. The ladyfriend companion was less on the fence. "I'm going to leave before I blow chunks," she said, choosing the slushy mess of a New England sleet-storm to a warm tortilla filled with luscious oats. And yes, at times we use Wayne's World-era jargon in passing. That's for a later discussion.

Sadly for her, she missed out on a surprisingly robust treat. Each flavor rose to the forefront with each subsequent bite, no one element overpowering the whole. The nutella's foundation added a creaminess and underlying tang of hazelnut. The peanut butter's peanuts gave a much-needed crunch to what would otherwise be a one-note texture of varying mush. And the oatmeal itself holds up incredibly well; you get the oaty taste, you feel the smooth ripples of grain and cooked wheat, but the raisins add a brightness that cuts through the many rich flavors on offer. Halfway through, I bit down and crunched into a small pile of brown sugar that had yet to dissolve into the larger filling. It reminded me of my youth, when I'd pack a spoon full of Domino's dark brethren and drop the clump in my mouth whole, allowing the nugget to dissolve. Back in the present: Nary a speck of crumb was left on the plate.



The Oatmeal Taco is well worth discovering for yourself. The collection of familiar tastes in an unfamiliar surrounding tricks your palette into delighting at something in a new way, even if you've enjoyed these flavors, in this same combination, for years. The Oatmeal Taco is many things: Creamy, crunchy, sweet, even--dare I say--sensuous. You owe it to you and your loved ones to give this a shot.

Speaking of shots: Has anyone seen my epinephrine? I think I might be going into anaphylactic shock...

Sunday, January 17, 2010

My Answer to Your Question #1

The first in a series of answers to questions not yet posed but brewing out there in the ether....

A: Yes, you should add Reese's Pieces to your pancakes. Wait!!--not in the batter, are you foolish? Drop them in on the uncooked side, while the 'cake is starting to cook in the pan. That way, you can determine ratio and distribution to your liking. The end result is a a smattering of brilliant little melty gems of peanut-butteriness, all surrounded by a tiny crisp layer of candy crunch. And now you have something to do with that leftover box of candy from when you saw Avatar, but couldn't eat the whole thing, what with your mouth agape for 3 hours straight.

Enjoy.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

The Border Toward Which I Ran

Taco Bell is the cheesecake of fast-food. It tastes damn good... but only in moderation.

One slice of cheesecake is divine. But: Have you ever eaten a whole cake in one sitting? My old roommate knows what I'm talking about.

Similarly, a soft taco with a layer of Fire sauce is a lovely thing.
So, too, is a warm, gooey Meximelt.
I'm also a fan of the new Beefy 5-layer Burrito.


I mean, look at that thing! Seasoned beef, refried beans, sour cream, melted cheese... and then more nacho cheese sauce around a layer of soft tortilla! All for, holy Sam Shepard, less than 90 cents. I don't care what you say or what your food inclinations are... that's a miracle in your mouth.

The problem isn't eating any one of these individually. The problem, sadly, is what happens when you eat these sequentially, in one sitting, with (yep) small dollops of sour cream from your fridge.

Do you hear that, too? My stomach is spouting obscenities at me. Cover your ears, kiddies. Them be bad words my tummy is rumblin'.