Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
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Taco Night At Chez Bielanko

It's starting to get cold here in Salt Lake City. The leaves crunch underfoot, mornings the air nips at your skin like an angry chihuahua. At night it's every man for himself, meaning it's a constant battle for our duvet. Or as Serge calls it, the duvette. He thinks he's SO French because his dad is, like, totally French and will call me on the phone and say Ow arrre yew doink, Moan-eee-cuh? That's How are you doing, Monica for the foreign language impaired among you. Super cute. Sometimes I go all tres Francais back because I took French in high school and I'm all Bonjour, je suis comme si comme ca. Il fait beau aujourd'hui. And then I go smoke a Virginia Slim in the backyard because I am THAT cosmopolitan. But back to Serge, Little Serge, I mean, because his dad is Serge too so it's Big Serge and Little Serge and if I ever have a son he'll probably be Littlest Serge. But anyway, I'm all, your dad may be from France and all, but it's dooo-vay, dammit, how many times do I have to tell you it's dooo-vay, not dooo-vette.


When it comes to one's warmth, we fight dirty, Serge and I, under the guise of sleep. Midnight and Serge has the advantage. Tug, tug, TUG! Three in the morning and Monica is the victor! And keep those dead fish feet off my leg! Round three comes at around five in the morning... One giant yank puts Serge in the lead. I sigh with relief when he leaves to shower at six, rolling myself up like a burrito in the luxurious king-sized feather-filled duvet. Good riddance, Serge!

Chivalry is SO dead when it comes to fighting for covers in the midst of autumn in the Rocky Mountains.

Speaking of burritos...

We've harvested most of our veggies. We had basil coming out of our eyeballs this summer. More tomatoes than we know what to do with. Jalapenos aren't far behind the tomatoes. Red and green peppers came in pretty well. The squash I so lovingly planted gave me the bird as did the strawberries. That's okay though, we've got more eggplant than I expected which makes up for the zucchini that refused my delicate advances.

Our harvest was practically begging for a good ol' Bielanko Taco Night. We used to do this in Brooklyn, this Taco Night, but the veggies at the corner market are enough to send someone into bankruptcy. How nice to use our own vegetables and even make our own salsa as well. Enjoy!

I'm running out of counter space!

A closer look.

Taco Night ain't Taco Night without guacamole.

Don't forget the shredded sharp cheddar.

And lime. Lots and lots of lime. Lime is a key ingredient in the food and the beer.