Deep Fry

Last night I went with Pat & Jen to see Girlyman. The man (presumbly Girlyman himself) had heavy purple eyeshadow, dried-blood-colored lipstick and Kewpie-doll hair. They were fairly adorable.

Tonight I finally tried that rellenito recipe that Silvia gave me in Guatemala. I learned that there are numerous steps missing from her instructions, so I winged (wung?) it.

I cooked some black beans and pulverized them with my hostile paws.

I boiled the platanos in water with sugar and cinnamon until they were squishy (about twenty minutes), and then peeled and mashed the suckers.

After the mash cooled, I flattened a ping-pong ball’s worth on my palm, slammed about a teaspoon of black bean goo in the middle, and folded the banana around it so there was no chance of escape. I then loving tossed the thing in boiling oil.

The recipe says the oil should be a friendo medio, but it needs to be hotter than that, unless you like your deep-fried items soggy. They weren’t bad, though.

What was great was that Lulu suddenly appeared at my door, accompanied by Esmeralda, so I got to inflict my dulces tipicos on them.

They seemed to like them, but then again it could have been like that time in Virginia when I was ten. My aunt had made us hamburgers that she’d filled with evil hidden things like diced green peppers and onions. Ungrateful shite that I was, bite by bite I spit the burger into my paper napkin. You know what happened next: A new one landed on my plate within seconds, on account of I’d liked the first one so much. And this time she watched me eat it.

Yesterday I went rock climbing at the gym with Lulu and her fella and his sister. I made it to the top each time, even on the 10.6. I still don’t like the upside-down parts. My daughter is a very good rock climber (she did an 11-something) and I managed to be a good little belayer and not drop her. When she’s stretched out on the rock face reaching for the next handhold, she looks like a dead mosquito on a windshield.

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