Tacos and Funnel Cake.

Recently, the Artist and I went out for late-night tacos.  There is a place near by that does crazy cheap tacos after 10pm, and they are SO delicious.  The Artist has tried lots of the menu items, but for him, nothing beats the fried fish taco.  He just loves them, and are his favourite taco by far.  Now for a little context… the Artist has a pattern for going to Costco and choosing a treat for himself to try, like a fancy salami or something.  But of course, at Costco, he has to buy a massive amount of it.  Then, he ends up not liking it, and is stuck with eating this copious amount of something.  Every time.  Or if we go to a restaurant, he asks me what he got last time, and if he liked it.  Then ends up panicking, and ordering the same thing that he specifically did not like last time.  He frequently panics when ordering food, and ends up saying the wrong thing, and then not correcting it.

(at the taco place)

Artist: What are you getting?

Me: A chicken taco and a pork taco.  What are you getting?

Artist: 4 fried fish tacos (face beaming with excitement).

Me: No more screwing around, eh?  You’re done with trying the other ones?

Artist: (nods, face beaming with even more excitement)

Waiter: What can I get for you?

Me: I will get a chicken taco and a pork taco.

Artist: I will get 2 carne asada, and 2 fish.

Me: (a snort of laughter briefly escapes) What happened?

Artist: I panicked.

This might as well be a scene from The Office starring Michael Scott, because it reminded me of the scene when Pam is telling Michael in an elevator that he cannot tell Dunder Mifflin that Michael Scott Paper Company is broke, and when the elevator opens, he is hunched over, breathing as if he was going to vomit, saying he is afraid he is going to say it.  The essence of this scene was present when the Artist ordered his tacos.  The stress, the I’m-going-to-vomit style breaths, and the absurdness of the entire thing.

I have come to the conclusion that we are a unique mutation of the human species.  What else would explain our weirdness?  LOL!

On a sweeter note, the Artist came home from work one day, famished, as always.  He goes into the kitchen and starts clanking around.  I am thinking to myself, what on earth is he doing in there?  Clearly, he is not re-heating leftovers or eating lunch meat right out of the package over the sink.

So I go in.  What is he doing?  Making funnel cake and donuts, of all things.  But look how delicious:



It was seriously amazing.  Moving, in fact.  I have never been so grateful for my Artist’s love of pastries, because this was genius.

Basically, he took pancake/waffle mix and put it in a bowl with an egg, some milk, a sprinkle of sugar and a splash of vanilla, and mixed it up.  You don’t want the batter to be too thick or too runny, sort of like the consistency of brownie batter.  So he kept adding more pancake/waffle mix until it got to a good thickness, and then fried it.  Another important thing; be extremely generous with the powdered sugar topping, and the ice cream works better if it is really soft so you can dip it.  The batter also works good to “plunk” in little chunks to make sort of a larger “Tim Bit’ type donut instead of a funnel cake shape.  But be certain not to do it too big, or the inside will be raw.  They should only take a few seconds to brown, so the outside will burn before a larger sized middle will be cooked.

What a wonderful life ❤


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