WE ARE OUT OF SALSA.
It's bound to happen when you eat salsa for every meal.
This started as MY bowl of salsa, by the way.
And then Chancho joined in. Yes, he IS sitting on the table. I also let him run in the street and listen to alternative music. I'm not a very good mom. Fortunately, they don't require licensing. And by "they" I mean the same people who require a license for driving trucks and getting married.
I'm trying to get the hankering for salsa out of my system before DJ comes home from Colorado. The last time he left me alone I ate a quart of salsa single-mouthedly in two days. He came home at two in the morning, crawled into bed, sniffed, and said, "What's that SMELL?!" (Did you know that I sleep with my mouth open? I do. I hate it, especially since I heard that statistic about how many spiders the average person eats during sleep in their lifetime.)
I want to share the recipe, but I feel like I should get permission from my cousin-in-law, Blake, who invented it. Ah, what the hey! He lives in Nevada, like he would drive all the way up here to pick a fight about recipe rights. Even if he did, he could never withstand my kung fu salsa breath. Here it is:
2 cans Mexican-style stewed tomatoes
4 green onions
2 cloves garlic
1/2 a bunch of cilantro
1 serrano chile
Put everything in a blender, push the button, and vee-oh-lay! Salsa!
Because we need a little yin with our yang, I'm still pumping my family full of green smoothies. My mom visited yesterday and was so completely weirded out by them that she took pictures. Lots of pictures.
DJ just called and said that he might come home this week. I really miss him and his "I don't give a crap about social norms" attitude.
The funny thing about DJ is that, without consulting me, he places bids at silent auctions for sports memorabilia that I don't even care about and then uses my cell phone as the contact number. AND THEN HE WINS. And then when I ask him about it, he says "I didn't think I'd win!" like it's a prize or something. Wait...that isn't funny at all. I gotta get that boy home.
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