I don't cook on a regular basis. Usually my roommate makes dinner for us and usually he does a darn good job. He gets home earlier from work than I do, so it makes sense that he starts cooking when he's hungry and it's done shortly after I get home. (I know, idyllic.) More importantly, he enjoys the art of cooking. Me, not quite there yet.
Tonight, however, we switched it up a bit. He was busy working on a report for work and when I asked him what was for dinner, he walked me to the refrigerator. There, ice-bitten, plastic-wrapped and highly marketed were meals with "Done in 5 Minutes!" and "Flash Frozen Vegetables" written proudly on them. What does that even mean?
As he pondered which option sounded better, I interrupted his thoughts and asked him how much sodium was in package #1. 42% PER CUP. Yikes. There weren't many other options though. I hate going to the grocery store and our regular weekly trip hadn't happened. Hence, the frozen dinners that he picked up a few days ago. I refused to eat those things though and poor roommate was a hungry man. It was looking like a cereal-for-dinner kind of evening. And then. . .
Vegetables! We had vegetables. Surely I could concoct something up. I started cutting, threw them on the stove, and continued to brainstorm what the green peppers and onions would become. After stepping outside for a minute I returned to a smell similar to fajitas. Fajitas! That's what they will become! I went to the refrigerator. Chicken, we have chicken! Some tomatoes, those should do. Tortillas, yes! I went to work. Two skillets were going, the cutting board was covered, and the roommate hollered that it was smelling good.
You can guess the general outcome of the story. I cooked the veggies. I cooked the chicken. And then I (over) cooked the tortillas. They were crispy. Oops. Still, I prepared our plates. When I apologized for the crispy tortillas, Mr. Roommate said he likes them like that. "It's like a tostada." Except these weren't tostadas. They were fajitas. Well, at least they were supposed to be. And so fajadas were born. I was pretty pleased with the outcome until he ruined it with, "It's amazing actually. You're going to have to start cooking more often." Blast.