Thursday, February 26, 2009

I'm not dead

Skiing went well. My friend Pam took me out to a very flat field full of kids rocketing around like little show-off banshees, the little blighters. She was very sweet with my nerdy ski beginnerness. .She's looking for a ski buddy, but one who doesn't want to ski like a rocket, just slow and steady. Well, I am definitely slow, the steady will have to come later. She was rockin' the skate style, I was happy just moving my legs back and forth and skittering forward. Only fell once. The ankle support on the boots proved their worth immediately, saved my ankle from what would have been a nasty sprain. There is no saving my ass, however, and it was fallen upon with lack of grace and elegance.

Still, it was fun, I enjoyed it (though the fear was large in my brain) and I hope to go again Sunday. I was nervous as hell beforehand though, I felt as though I was giong to my execution, and had a brief panic when I was positive I bought the wrong size skis, but it all seemed to work out ok. I sure do understand what ski wax does now! That shit STICKS!

Was home in time to make dinner, which was created off the top of my head and was as follows:

One can black beans (drained)
One can corn (drained)
*One can Rotel (drained)
Half a pound or so of chopped, roasted chicken.
Half a pound of shredded mild white cheese (Monterrey Jack would be great, if I could get it in Norway!)

Mix all that up in a big bowl, season with garlic, cumin, some salt and pepper, a little chili powder, epazote, some dried onions if you want (or fresh, I was lazy), fresh or dried cilantro.

Dump it in a casserole dish, bake at a medium temperature (I did 210c, whatever that is in fahrenheit) for 15-20 minutes. Just until it's all melty good. Serve with rice, or tortilla chips as a dip, or on tortillas, whatever the hell you want. Would be yummy topped with some sour cream.

Took about 5 minutes to throw together. Vary at will.

*If you live in Norway you are largely fucked if you want Rotel. I bring it over from the States in my suitcase. A Texan without Rotel is like a Norwegian without skis. Unnatural.

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