taco night!

We had snow again lately.  When it snows, all good North Carolinians storm the grocery store.  This time, as we braved the crowds and marveled at how full everyone’s carts were, I caught sight of a woman purchasing organic taco shells.  I had seen them on the shelves before.  But I’d never considered buying them.  Taco shells are not involved in any authentic cuisine.  This I knew after nine+ years in San Francisco, cultivating an appreciation of real Mexican food.  Despite what I knew, I was intrigued.

Truth be told, a few weeks ago I’d lingered over a taco seasoning packet, much like the Old El Paso ones my mother favored for taco night.  This one promised no MSG and no gluten ingredients.  I felt ashamed as I handled the packet, worried someone might see me.  Seasoning packets are in the same category as bottled salad dressing and Molly McButter – a category of products I had decided was not for me.  If you rely on these products, how can you learn to season your food properly?  Since I was committed to learning, I decided a long time ago to beef up my spice collection, purchase a variety of vinegars, keep lemons and garlic in the house, and use a lot of salt.  Becoming familiar with how to use these ingredients has brought me some confidence, and apparently a bit of snobbishness.  Despite wanting the strangely alluring packet, I put it back – after reading the ingredient label and confirming that it wasn’t something I couldn’t make myself.

As I registered my intrigue at witnessing someone purchase hard taco shells, I remembered this taco seasoning packet.  Before my internal censor kicked in, I suggested taco night to Kevin.  His face lit up.  We quickly loaded up the seasoning, shells, organic ground beef and a fancy ‘Mexican’ blend of shredded cheese.  Tonight was going to be taco night, and we were excited. 

We both grew up loving taco night.  My mother remembers me telling her as a child that we always laughed more as a family when she made tacos for dinner.  Kevin has plenty of positive associations with taco night as well.  He makes great food shoveling gestures as he describes how he used to fill the taco shells at the table & chow down on them. 

When we got home, I realized for the first time that I’d never made tacos before.  Luckily there are instructions right on the little seasoning packet.  I started with the suggested chopped onion sauté and then added the beef and the spices.  It surprised me to learn that a can of tomato sauce was recommended.  I didn’t have tomato sauce, but I did have some tomato paste, which I stirred into the beef just before taking it off heat.  I was scared to taste it, afraid I’d outgrown my taste for the kind of tacos I loved as a child.  But this was taco night.  We were destined to have a good time.  So I sampled a bit of the beef on a chip and it was good.  It was rather spicy, in fact.  We now expectantly set about the task of structuring our tacos to very particular specifications.  Separately, we grew up preferring to layer the hot, seasoned beef in the shell first, then sprinkle on the cheese, so it would melt.  After that one would pile on other cold-temperature toppings, which included iceberg lettuce in both of our houses.  My mother would always have chopped tomatoes and sliced black olives on hand.  Kevin’s mother provided salsa.  The one element we added to our taco night that had not been present in either of our childhoods was avocado slices.  

We each started off with two tacos and couldn’t help but fix a third.  It was discovered that one must heat up the taco shells in the oven, instead of eating them right out of the package, despite how impatient one is on taco night to get to the taco eating part.  We ate, we laughed, we remembered fun family dinners, and we made a tiny sailboat out of broken shell pieces and an avocado slice.  The phrase “I love taco night” was uttered several times throughout the evening. 

It’s hard not to get rigid about food rules or let my food snobbishness take over in the grocery store.  But this time I’m really glad I followed my intuition.  Our dinner involved a seasoning packet, but one that opened up a feeling we both wanted – memories of family dinners where our mothers didn’t have to work too hard and together, everyone ate happily.    

The next day Kevin introduced me to his family’s tradition of making taco salads for lunch with the leftovers from taco night.  He lamented the fact that we don’t have Wishbone Italian Dressing, which was a keystone ingredient for his childhood palate.  We used homemade white balsamic vinaigrette to which we’d added a little garlic powder.  It sufficed.  But I think we’re going to buy some Wishbone dressing.