I guess I am officially an adult. HOB (husband of blogger) and I just purchased and moved into our first house and gained a mortgage. In the weeks and weeks leading up to our closing and move in dates, my poor little kitchen in my apartment stood neglected, acting only as a landing strip for pizza delivery boxes and take out containers. The refrigerator slowly emptied and my trips to the grocery and farmer’s market became less and less. My cooking time had been replaced by packingtime. My oven stood cold and my pantry bare. I was definitely out of my element. And so, the day after we moved in the first thing I wanted to do was to cook dinner. The first room I wanted to work on unpacking was my new kitchen. About 2 hours into the process, my hands were blackened by newspaper print and I was only about halfway through my boxes. Since I refused to order any more take out, I departed for my new local grocery store. I scanned the aisles trying to think of what would require very few dishes and when I turned the corner to the Hispanic aisle, I thought, “Nachos.” So it’s not the most complicated of meals, and I would have preferred a homey roast chicken, but, considering the sore muscles and bones from moving, the easier the better. At least it would be homemade.
At home I piled a mound of tortilla chips on a baking sheet and topped them with pinto beans, and shredded cheddar and popped them into the oven. Even though I was dodging boxes and scavenging for utensils, it still felt good to cook, er, prepare dinner again. After their short stint in the oven, I took out my nachos and topped the hot concoction with slices of avocado, and a combination of tomatoes, red onion and cilantro mixed with lime juice. On the very top went a dollop of sour cream and a sprinkling of Tapatio hot sauce, HOB’s favorite. As I put everything on a platter, HOB opened the refrigerator and presented a bottle of sparkling wine that he’d been waiting to open in celebration of our new home. I didn’t expect much from that pairing, but strangely, the combination wasn’t half bad. Who would have thought? HOB and I sat in our living room eating nachos off a platter that was placed on top of a box and drank champagne out of our best crystal stemware. While I hope to have many years of better dinners in my new kitchen and home, there is no doubt that our first meal there was nothing if not memorable.
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