Today I made this… thing.
I’m repulsed to even call it a recipe as I am French. Therefore, I’m a snob. Or, so I pride myself in thinking when I cook. When I cook, it’s about appearance, taste, and creativity. How can I take this recipe, this theme and make it my own? So when I made this, skillet, I was repulsed.
First of all, it starts out bad. It calls for:
- 1 can (10 3/4 oz.) Campbell’s tomato soup
- 1lb ground beef (or if you so prefer, ground turkey/pork/chicken)
- 4 flour (or corn) tortillas cut into 6 pieces each.
- 1/2 cup salsa (I use hot)
- 1/2 cup Mexican blend shredded cheese (Sarrrrrgento to the rescue!)
- A dollop of sour cream (completely optional)
See what I mean? I don’t have much breathing room with this dish. Although, I do add chopped onion while I’m cooking the beef, it gives it an essence of texture… something it clearly lacks.
As if the ingredients aren’t bad enough, step two of this monstrosity wants me to take the tortilla strips, salsa, sour cream, cheese, and tomato soup AND MIX THEM ALL TOGETHER IN ONE SKILLET. It looks edible up until you mix the sour cream in. Then it turns this awful colour.
By the time the excess liquids and what not boil off, you’re left with this.. mush. The tortilla strips are like gum in your mouth, almost more slimy really, having soaked up tomato soup. The tomato soup lends this sweet kick to the spicy from the salsa. The salsa lends it’s little texture from the vegetables, but it just looks… a mess. I wouldn’t serve it unless I was serving it as a dip. Not a meal. Never a meal, but a dip that you could dip fritos into. It looks completely unappetizing. Or So I feel.
The funny bit is, my boyfriend loves this. Today, while I was being a grouch about making it, he asked me, “What’s wrong?” I had to take pause. Plenty is wrong. I have a folder full of tangible recipes and another one on my laptop just bursting with things to try. That doesn’t include the cook book I got for Christmas, or the HP cookbook I picked up over the summer. Yet, I was stuck making this thing again.
Perhaps next time, I’ll make something else. One can hope.