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Recipe: beef tenderloin wraps

It’s December and I am officially in what I call “shit pants” mode because there is an overwhelming amount of stuff to get done. I’ve been spending a lot of time in the kitchen and so far I’ve burned my hands twice in two days. I am on a roll, baby!

there’s the beef: tenderloin (salted)

Well, party season is here whether you like it or not. Hard for me to say if I like parties or sit down dinners better. I guess I like the intimacy of a sit down dinner because you can have a nice conversation with a few people versus the social butterfly flitting from one guest to the next – getting only 15 minutes tops with each guest. That said, I like parties because it’s a great excuse to make tons of little foods.

grilled rare

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Recipe: chinese stir-fried beef noodles

Can’t think. I’m tired and there were so many pictures and observations from today that I wouldn’t know where to begin. So I won’t just yet.

But there is a recipe…. because it is my dad’s birthday today. I think most people associate birthdays with cake, but I associate birthdays with noodles per the Chinese tradition.

My dad is the CEO of the house and my mom is the CFO. Dad likes management speak, because he was a manager as well as an engineer. When I was in college, they sent me a check for my birthday one year. My father told me, “I have authorized Mommy to release some funds for your birthday present.” What a hoot.

goofing off with dad at kris’ wedding

at my college graduation

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Recipe: shredded beef tacos

That phrase is the first sentence I learned in Spanish way back in high school, from a bunch of friends who took Spanish. I took French, see. So when I headed down to South America to do field work for graduate school I was all, “Guys, I don’t speak a lick of Spanish.” Well, except for por que tu eres un taco grande? Everyone assured me I’d pick it up.

I did pick up some Spanish, all with an Argentine accent. That got me a lot of funny stares when I flew across the Andes to Chile for work on a field project with Jeremy and a team of astronomers. When Jeremy met me at the airport in Santiago and we caught a cab, he was amazed while I chattered away with our driver in my Argentine Spanish explaining the geophysical research project I had been working on for the past month. Jeremy speaks Spanish. When he saw me off at the airport in the US, the only new Spanish I had learned was No me molestes! and Chupacabra (from an X-files episode).

When I say Jeremy speaks Spanish, I really mean that he knows a lot of Spanish, but the guy hardly speaks much in English and even less in Spanish. He actually *thinks* before he speaks. That’s why when he finally says something, everyone listens. It’s usually something quite good. But me, I run my mouth all the time and let my jabbering find its way around until I say what I wanted to say. I don’t hesitate to speak. Same goes for my Spanish.

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