Internally, I'm still smarting over my incredible failure to realize that the Mexican alphabet does not use "k." So file this story under K for Stupidity:
I chopped up some more jalapenos yesterday for pickling purposes. However, after I'd chopped them all up I realized I didn't have enough vinegar. So this morning I went up to Pitico. Along with the vinegar I picked up some more boxed salsa (great for spagetti sauce!), some cereal (our one real American-food treat, Honey Bunches With Oats cereal), and at Greg's insistence, more tortillas. Pitico has the usual box-shaped layout of a supermarket, but this one has an annex that sells pan and pan dulce, Mexican bread and pastries. We always eat tortillas because they're so good here, and we don't eat pastries in the morning, so I haven't ventured into this little nook. But today I saw some rolls, and I really wanted them. Mm, bread. With butter. So I bought a couple. Oh -- in Mexico when you buy pan and/or pan dulce, you grab a basket or platter and some tongs, pick out what you want with the tongs, then take the basket or platter of breads to the counter to have it bagged. Or if you like Wonder Bread, you can buy a loaf of Bimbo, the Latin American equivalent, by just pulling a bag off the shelf. But I just wanted those white-bread rolls, so as I was standing at the counter while the lady popped the rolls into the unavoidable plastic baggie, I saw a stack of paper-wrapped bundles: fresh tortillas. No way! Greg and I have been whining since we got here that we don't know where to go for fresh tortillas, and they've been here at Pitico the entire time.
Now we know.
Hey, and speaking of bread, I'm surprised at the things I miss about the Bay Area. Family and friends, sure, of course -- sometimes terribly. The natural beauty of the Bay Area; I miss that, too. (And if you haven't recently, march your ass outside and take a good look around and thank your gods that you live where you live, because that jewel by the bay stands head and shoulders in looks above most every other city I've ever seen.) But, I would kill for some good sourdough bread. Really. Chewy, pungent sourdough. Or some Grace Bakery Pugliese. It's tortillas or white bread down here, that is the choice.
I chopped up some more jalapenos yesterday for pickling purposes. However, after I'd chopped them all up I realized I didn't have enough vinegar. So this morning I went up to Pitico. Along with the vinegar I picked up some more boxed salsa (great for spagetti sauce!), some cereal (our one real American-food treat, Honey Bunches With Oats cereal), and at Greg's insistence, more tortillas. Pitico has the usual box-shaped layout of a supermarket, but this one has an annex that sells pan and pan dulce, Mexican bread and pastries. We always eat tortillas because they're so good here, and we don't eat pastries in the morning, so I haven't ventured into this little nook. But today I saw some rolls, and I really wanted them. Mm, bread. With butter. So I bought a couple. Oh -- in Mexico when you buy pan and/or pan dulce, you grab a basket or platter and some tongs, pick out what you want with the tongs, then take the basket or platter of breads to the counter to have it bagged. Or if you like Wonder Bread, you can buy a loaf of Bimbo, the Latin American equivalent, by just pulling a bag off the shelf. But I just wanted those white-bread rolls, so as I was standing at the counter while the lady popped the rolls into the unavoidable plastic baggie, I saw a stack of paper-wrapped bundles: fresh tortillas. No way! Greg and I have been whining since we got here that we don't know where to go for fresh tortillas, and they've been here at Pitico the entire time.
Now we know.
Hey, and speaking of bread, I'm surprised at the things I miss about the Bay Area. Family and friends, sure, of course -- sometimes terribly. The natural beauty of the Bay Area; I miss that, too. (And if you haven't recently, march your ass outside and take a good look around and thank your gods that you live where you live, because that jewel by the bay stands head and shoulders in looks above most every other city I've ever seen.) But, I would kill for some good sourdough bread. Really. Chewy, pungent sourdough. Or some Grace Bakery Pugliese. It's tortillas or white bread down here, that is the choice.
