Sometimes it takes a blackout to make the best burritos ever. Last week, my wife and I planned to have burritos for dinner. I grabbed the ingredients on the way home from work.
When I got home, I unloaded the groceries, pulled out the frying pan, put the cutting board down for some slicing and dicing, then BINGO, out went the lights. “UH, OH,” I thought. “Can I cook cold burritos somehow?”
Seconds later, the lights flickered back on. WHEW! Seconds later they flicked back off. DAMMIT! I waited and waited. Ten to fifteen minutes went by. Plan B emerged.
My mind went to camping and eating outdoors. If you have no electricity, how do you cook? If you’re out in the woods camping, you use the campfire. We have a gas grill. It would have to do.
The first step to making the best blackout burritos born out of necessity was to figure out how to cook all the ingredients and make sure it came out on time. Originally, I had planned to have some rice mixed with beans and corn as side dishes. To make this work, instead I had to mix them all together and stuff in the burrito.
So here’s how it went. I got out the frying pan and put the ground beef inside, squeezed some lime into it, and poured some hickory liquid smoke. The pan when on our grill, and I closed the lid on top to let this mixture percolate.
I wanted the meat to cook thoroughly. When the ground beef was done but still stewing in its juices, I added some frozen corn and the rice mixture to let it simmer together. Waiting, I diced some lettuce, got out grated cheese, fresh cilantro, Newman’s salsa, leftover guacamole and sour cream, and set them aside.
It smelled dang good lifting the grill’s lid, and the lights were still out. Motivation to continue executing Blackout Burritos.
My biggest concern was getting everything mixed at the end, and toasted. I didn’t want to finish cooking in the pan, so I figured I’d put the rolled up burrito directly on the grill. Fortunately, because someone was looking down on me before I went to the supermarket, I bought extra large tortillas. Go figure. I never do that.
The rice/bean mixture and corn went into the meat, and I let that continue to simmer as I diced cilantro. When it seemed the base of the dish had cooked enough, I brought the pan inside to the candlelit dinner table, pulled out the titanic tortillas, layered the meat mixture in, then added: diced cilantro, grated cheese, chopped lettuce, Newman’s salsa and sour cream, guacamole. I rolled those babies back up, then brought them outside, dropped the heat on the grill, then placed them on it to toast.
A few minutes later, I used the spatula to flip them and grill a few minutes on the other side. Mmmmmmmmm! It left those light brown grill marks on the tortilla. I was starting to think, “This could be good.”
When my wife loves food, you know what you made was a success. We sat down after I pulled the massive tortillas off the grill and shut the gas heater off. Just one big ‘ol burrito to eat – no side dish, no need to layer on any other spices or ingredients.
One bite, and I knew it was a success. I could see her devour the final product. Juices oozed out of the side, the sour cream, beef, cheese, lime juice, cilantro, salsa, rice, beans and corn blended together like they were married long ago. Blackout Burritos. Cooking in the dark. But not without light. Go for it.
When I got home, I unloaded the groceries, pulled out the frying pan, put the cutting board down for some slicing and dicing, then BINGO, out went the lights. “UH, OH,” I thought. “Can I cook cold burritos somehow?”
Seconds later, the lights flickered back on. WHEW! Seconds later they flicked back off. DAMMIT! I waited and waited. Ten to fifteen minutes went by. Plan B emerged.
My mind went to camping and eating outdoors. If you have no electricity, how do you cook? If you’re out in the woods camping, you use the campfire. We have a gas grill. It would have to do.
The first step to making the best blackout burritos born out of necessity was to figure out how to cook all the ingredients and make sure it came out on time. Originally, I had planned to have some rice mixed with beans and corn as side dishes. To make this work, instead I had to mix them all together and stuff in the burrito.
So here’s how it went. I got out the frying pan and put the ground beef inside, squeezed some lime into it, and poured some hickory liquid smoke. The pan when on our grill, and I closed the lid on top to let this mixture percolate.
I wanted the meat to cook thoroughly. When the ground beef was done but still stewing in its juices, I added some frozen corn and the rice mixture to let it simmer together. Waiting, I diced some lettuce, got out grated cheese, fresh cilantro, Newman’s salsa, leftover guacamole and sour cream, and set them aside.
It smelled dang good lifting the grill’s lid, and the lights were still out. Motivation to continue executing Blackout Burritos.
My biggest concern was getting everything mixed at the end, and toasted. I didn’t want to finish cooking in the pan, so I figured I’d put the rolled up burrito directly on the grill. Fortunately, because someone was looking down on me before I went to the supermarket, I bought extra large tortillas. Go figure. I never do that.
The rice/bean mixture and corn went into the meat, and I let that continue to simmer as I diced cilantro. When it seemed the base of the dish had cooked enough, I brought the pan inside to the candlelit dinner table, pulled out the titanic tortillas, layered the meat mixture in, then added: diced cilantro, grated cheese, chopped lettuce, Newman’s salsa and sour cream, guacamole. I rolled those babies back up, then brought them outside, dropped the heat on the grill, then placed them on it to toast.
A few minutes later, I used the spatula to flip them and grill a few minutes on the other side. Mmmmmmmmm! It left those light brown grill marks on the tortilla. I was starting to think, “This could be good.”
When my wife loves food, you know what you made was a success. We sat down after I pulled the massive tortillas off the grill and shut the gas heater off. Just one big ‘ol burrito to eat – no side dish, no need to layer on any other spices or ingredients.
One bite, and I knew it was a success. I could see her devour the final product. Juices oozed out of the side, the sour cream, beef, cheese, lime juice, cilantro, salsa, rice, beans and corn blended together like they were married long ago. Blackout Burritos. Cooking in the dark. But not without light. Go for it.