“Nooo,” Emelie cried as her involuntary hand gesture knocked the glass over, spilling it’s precious and ridiculously expensive contents on the kitchen table.
“My mojitooo!” – Tina howled with the genuine pain and anger of an innocent girl done horribly wrong, her anguished cry echoing through the room and hitting me like a thousand icy spikes right through the heart and drawing some really uncomfortable flashbacks to much unhappier times.
Don’t,” I managed, steadying myself against the table as I tried to regain control of my involuntarily shaking legs.. “Don’t EVER do that again! Only once in the last two years have I heard such sadness and pain in your voice and back then you were trembling and crying uncontrollably in my arms.. Please, baby, it’s just a drink.”
“But..,” she looked at me with deep, sad, blue eyes, pointing at the mess that Emelie had made and was now in the process of cleaning up.. “It was my drink.. My mojito!” – “Yes, sweetie,” I countered, “and that’s my $100 rum being sucked up by kitchen towel, you’ll live and I’ll make you another mojito.” – She smiled at me gratefully, as I started shaking her another mojito and as Emelie finished, cleaning up the mess she’d left, I handed Tina another mojito and, shaking my head slightly, went back to cooking dinner.. “I should have just gone to the Entombed show downtown,” I though jokingly to myself. “It would have been easier than to spend Friday night cooking for these two crazy ladies.” It wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun, though, so despite the drama, the spilled drinks and the yelling, I was happy I had decided to spend the evening cooking for, and enjoying the company of, my lovely girls.
The drama above wasn’t part of the plan, but the mojitos were. For almost a week, we’d planned to spend Friday evening together, having a few drinks and some good food. Tina had, through her usual means of persuasion, made sure that the drinks of choice would be traditional Caribbean mojitos and daiquiris, and that the food to go along be traditional Mexican dishes, namely quesadillas and carne asada burritos. Both lovely ladies claimed that said dishes and said drinks traditionally go together and since their main arguments came in the shape of sweet smiles and batting eyelashes, I thought it futile to argue.. At any rate, I aim to please.
So yeah, anyways, Friday evening, I’d dragged myself all the way down to Emelie’s pad with all the ingredients to make some killer home-made quesadillas and burritos along with some nacho chips, a six-pack of Coronas, a bottle of French white wine and all the ingredients for the mojitos and daiquiris that were as of now apparently an integral part of traditional Mexican cooking tradition. In other words, I’d brought enough food to make the girls content, full and happy.. And enough booze to get them beautifully liquored up. The latter, at least, I seemed to be succeeding in judging by the fact that glasses were flying around the kitchen even before dinner was served.
Which about brings us back to where we were. Having regained some sort of control over the situation and having made sure everybody once again had something to drink, I set about finishing dinner while I had the girls set the table. Well, that is, I tried to have the girls set the table but made the mistake of asking the giddy, chatty girls if they’d mind setting the table once they were done with their little talk about nothing in particular.. Which, in their defense, they did, I just hugely underestimated the amount of time girls can spend chatting about nothing in particular.. So by the time we had time to sit down and eat, the quesadillas were pretty well done and I’d learned an important Zen lesson.
Starving as I was, though, the quesadilla appetizers were amazing if I dare say so myself and they went down really, really well with a cold Corona, a bit of home-made salsa and the guacamole which Tina had struggled to help me make, this time not only by mashing up the avocados for the mix, but by actually running (yes, running) out and getting new, ripe avocados as those I’d brought turned out impossibly unripe.. Thank you, baby, you saved the evening!
The appetizer was followed by more chatting, some clearing of the table and a short break while I messed up the main dish. Errm.. Which is to say that I didn’t so much mess it up as I made some involuntary fusion cooking. The beef was great, the refried beans as well, the Spanish rice and the compliments. But, as it turns out, if you leave flour tortillas in the oven for too long, they toughen up and lose a lot in the whole being pliable department, and as such they’re kinda hard to roll and manipulate into a burrito-like shape. And so, the Carne Asada taco was invented! If you can’t manage a roll, you can at least manage a semi-circle.
The resulting dish looked downright comical, but tasted pretty authentic, and hey, the girls were happy and that’s all that matters.. Hell, I was happy, too, by the time I got around to my second Corona. And so, we feasted, ate, drank and were merry until a state of food coma was reached by all.. Well, all but Tina who sneered at me as I tried to remove her plate a little too early, then had another bite and declared defeat. As the girls sat back, I quietly sneaked into the kitchen and, knowing that my cooking ways don’t usually harmonize too well with a woman’s idea of tidiness of the kitchen area, tried to clean things off a bit after myself.
I managed to keep at this dodgy plan for all of ten minutes before Emelie cried out “Joohaaaaan?” in her usual semi-concerned/semi-disapproving manner. “Be right there,” I countered, after which the girls came charging into the kitchen and gave me a right trashing for trying to tidy things up. I stood my ground pretty firmly for a while before Tina resorted to her mean, girlish ways, huggled me, snuck an arm around my waist and dragged me back into the living room without too much protest on my behalf. Damn women and their disarming tricks!
After having successfully failed in trying to clean up after myself, I thought fuck it and just plopped down with the girls on the couch where they were now snuggling under their own respective blankets. Not being much of a blanket man myself, I decided to keep warm by grabbing a bottle of wine instead and pouring a glass for Tina and myself while Emelie stuck to snoozing over the remainder of her Corona.. We then set out to watch a movie, namely “Tenacious D in The Pick of Destiny”, a movie Tina claimed to never have seen despite me showing it to her a few years back.. Which she would have to admit upon seeing the first scene of the movie.. Regardless, though, it was still a fun movie and watching it with Emelie just proved all the more fun..
See, Emelie (bless her) have a way of making funny movies even more fun because the poor girl can simply not handle embarrassing situations, not even on film. Which means that she reacts to comical embarrassment in the way that most girls would usually react to horror movies, by shying away from the screen, turning her head, perhaps even hiding under the blanket if things get really bad. It’s a strange kind of behavior, if you ask me, but Emelie being Emelie, it’s also a strangely cute kinda behavior.. And having watched this particular movie about a dozen times myself, I’d say it made for some great variation now and then. And I use the term now and then because I could have been perfectly happy just watching Emelie for most of the film, but she, in turn decided to spend half of the movie sound asleep.. It had been a long day after all.
After a great movie, a few power naps, some good laughs and some even better glasses of wine, we sat and chatted for a while, watching VH1 and laughing at music videos from our younger years. Ahh, good times. Fast times, though, as most of us were pretty well spent after a long day at work, and Emelie in particular was nodding off. So, we decided to call it a day, Tina asked Jeppe to come pick her up, I started gathering my stuff, Tina got picked up, I helped Emelie clear out the rest of the mess I’d created and then I, too, headed home, carrying the last two glasses of wine with me in the bottle to share with a good friend once I made it home, i.e. myself..
And I’m happy to report that I did just that once I got home over some good music and an even better book. I’ve really taken to reading again and am quite enjoying it. After a long busy Friday it was just plain awesome to be able to kick my feet up at home, dig into my newly purchased Johnny Cash auto-biography, pour myself a glass of really good wine and disappear into American VI.. What a great day!