In the meantime...

I'm working on something else to share with you all but it needs some tweaking so in the meantime here is something that I wrote in college. Some of you have already read this. It's silly and fun. The assignment for class was to write about food. We were to describe the food while telling it's relevance to us. So I wrote this, "An Ode to Cheese Quesadillas". My prof loved it which I find funny because other papers that I worked my butt off on, she found only to be okay.... Anyway, It's Dave's favorite college paper of mine I think because of all the sentiment. Hope you enjoy! :)

David and I were newlyweds. We were 18 years old and freshman in college. Most people our age were enjoying dorm life and partying like rock-stars with their parent’s money. And while our friends were discovering sex, drugs, and rock and roll, David and I were simply trying to survive. As teenage bride and groom we had very little income to get by on. We were living on a few college scholarships and the leftover cash from our summertime jobs. Most of our money was spent on rent, tuition, and books. The little bit that we had left over was strictly set aside for food and gas. These rigid details, however, never seemed to bother us. We still managed to avoid boredom and starvation. Creativity became our greatest asset and we helped each other along the first and most resourceful year of our marriage. In short, the love was there, but the money wasn’t.

Grocery shopping was a simple task for us as we couldn’t afford much. The main food groups consisted mainly of pop-tarts (breakfast), macaroni and cheese or ramen noodles (lunch), and frozen pizza pockets or chicken pot pies (dinner). Every once in awhile we would get crazy and throw a couple Henry Weinhardt root beers in the cart. But this was a very rare occasion and only done when we could afford it. Needless to say, eating the same foods everyday got old fast. And this is when David began his cooking attempts in the kitchen.

At first I doubted his ability, but then I remembered that he had worked in a Mexican restaurant the year before. And much to my enjoyment (and my taste bud’s) he used this to his advantage. He never got fancy; there were no chicken fajitas or beef flautas, but there were other minor Mexican menu attempts. My favorite attempt was Dave’s cheese quesadillas. For those of you who don’t know, a cheese quesadilla is simply two flour tortillas laid on top of one another with melted cheese in between. As simple as they sound, they were a poor married couple’s favorite meal for the better part of a year.

I came home from class one day, anticipating yet another dull frozen dinner. Instead, I was greeted at the door with a heavy buttery aroma. I heard the popping and crackling of grease and the cling of a metal spatula against a frying pan. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Was he frying eggs? Was he making hamburgers? As I walked into the kitchen, I saw Dave bent over a bowl, both hands occupied with a shredder and a block of cheddar cheese. I glanced at the frying pan and saw the tortilla enclosed in grease. Without skipping a beat Dave handed me a plate and scooped the quesadilla out of the pan with his spatula. He then handed me a bowl full of salsa and said, “Try it.”

I did not hesitate. Months of eating pop-tarts and ramen noodles would have made peanut butter and jelly look like king crab. But this… this was homemade! It didn’t come in a package complete with microwave instructions. The ingredients didn’t even come in the same package! They came in two separately-sold packages; one cheese package, one tortilla package! I picked it up with my bare hands and let the grease drip down my knuckles. I folded it into a taco-like shape and dipped it into the cold salsa. And then I had my first bite. For those of you who have experience with cheese quesadillas, you know the bite I’m talking about.

For those of you who don’t know, I shall explain myself further. I will begin with the texture. There is that perfect blend of the crunchy tortilla and chewy cheese. The tortillas will break off, sometimes whole and sometimes with little deep-fried flakes falling onto your lips and then onto your chin. As you pull the tortilla away the warm cheese will stretch and string its way across the gap from your hand to your mouth. You can stretch it as long as you want in the attempt to break it off but you are usually better off holding the tortillas with one hand and grabbing the cheesy string with the other and tearing your way through. Once you have fully broken free you are finally able to chew your way through the fried tortillas and roll the melted cheesed around your mouth, dissolving its velvety surface. However, the texture is only part of it.

The other equally enjoyable part of the quesadilla process is the taste. The taste is surprising, yet extremely pleasing. During that first bite, once you have chewed your way through the quesadilla to deliver equal parts of cheese, tortilla, and salsa to the various taste-buds on your tongue, you are met with the mouth-watering mixture of the smooth flavor of cheddar and the strong punch of salsa. The oil-cooked tortilla and cheese provide a buttery or creamy taste which is immediately followed by the spicy zing in the tomato/pepper based salsa. That extra kick of spice is the perfect compliment to the mildness of the quesadilla.

The amount of zing, however, can be controlled. You can choose mild, medium, hot, or extra-hot salsa. You can even choose to forego the salsa. There are a variety of ways to serve a quesadilla. For example, you are not completely limited to salsa as your only condiment. Guacamole and sour cream are often used as sides or dips. You can also use different cheeses such as Monterey or pepper jack. Some people will even add grilled chicken or vegetables to the cheese filling. The possibilities are endless and the final result is completely up to the quesadilla consumer.

David and I have experimented with many of the possibilities, but I keep going back to that first and, perhaps most simple, one; the cheese quesadilla. I cannot seem to overcome the pleasure that swirled around my mouth during that first initial bite. Nor can I forget the immense sensation of pure satisfaction as I swallowed and it descended into my appreciative stomach. What a feeling of joy and relief that followed! No more macaroni and cheese! No more ramen noodles! No more dehydrated, frozen dinners! I can eat cheese quesadillas whenever I want!

I looked up at Dave who was staring at me with anticipation.

“How was it?” he asked.

“It was pretty damn good!” I replied. He smiled and handed me a Henry Weinhardt root beer.