Since I didn't want to clean off another goddamn cookie sheet I just threw the bastard away and drove to Unique to buy a new one. All the way over I was trying to rationalize my decision vis a vis the new economy. I was gonna waste at least a gallon of water, a precious resource, scrubbing. Right? I also wanted to see if they had any ladies' scarves I could drape around my neck. Anyway, I got my comeuppance when some teenagers made fun of my moustache. "Would you like a cup of tea, suh?" I don't know what that means.
Back to the real topic at hand, the taqueria caught my eye on the way in. The menu was gigantic, you could read it from the street. You could see it plainly. Having been denied brains previously I wasn't about the get denied them again. I went in, bought my cookie pan without wasting a moment and marched over there. The breeze caught my frou-frou cravat and it waved majestically in the bluster. I ordered one de "lengua," one "cabeza" (and I'm really not sure what that is exactly) and the "cesos." [sick]
I can see why people scramble these in eggs. It has the same consistency of scrambled eggs and is very similar in appearance, too. I'm not sure if I'd really recommend them but wikipedia assures me that they remain popular in the Ohio Valley. So, surely I can find that fried brain sandwich I've heard so much about.
Still, the long and the short of it is:
I ate a cow's brain in a b-rated kitchen on Preston Highway that didn't even spell "sesos" right. That's probably the essence of this blog when I'm not cooking.
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