Even our dog wouldn’t eat it!
I am not a very good cook. I burn water trying to boil it and lost the recipe for ice years ago. But my Texas Hash is a gourmet's delight!
Once upon a time, in a former life, my wife went on a business trip, leaving me with our three sons and our dog Rusty. We saw her off at the airport, then drove home for lunch. No problem. Even I can make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, pour milk into a glass and set apples on a counter. The problem began that evening when everybody, including our dog Rusty, came into the kitchen to see what Dad was going to do about dinner.
"Boys" I said, with authority and confidence, "Tonight, while your mother is enjoying dinner in a fancy restaurant, we are having Texas Hash."
"What's that, Dad?" asked Andy, my youngest. "I don't remember Mom ever making that."
"No son, she never did, but I am and you boys are going to help me. You get four hamburger patties out of the fridge. Ronnie, open this can of corn. Gregory, the black beans are in the pantry."
I was the adult and would be in charge of fire. I placed a large pan on the burner, turned it on, added the corn, beans and patties, salt, a clove of garlic and a dash of humor: "The vampires will hate this stuff but you guys are gonna love it!"
My three sons were too young to hide the looks on their faces but Rusty was wagging his tail enthusiastically. He would eat anything.
"Dad, garlic goes around your neck, not in the food!" complained Ronnie, my oldest. He had out smarted me when he was 6 by hiding liver in his milk.
"One whiff of that garlic on your breath, Ronald, and even Dracula will back off. Get out the bowls--this stuff is ready to eat."
Andy groaned "Dad, this is awful!"
"Yeah, there's too much garlic and it's really salty." added Gregory. He had outsmarted me when he was 5 by hiding peas under the edge of his plate.
"Dinner isn't supposed to be sweet, Gregory, but I'll add honey to yours."
Andy and Ronnie wanted honey too, of course, so I plopped a dollop in their bowls.
"Now it's too sweet, Dad." complained Gregory. His brothers agreed so I added red wine.
Dinner went downhill from there so we drove to McDonalds for burgers and fries.
When their mother returned, they all ran out to greet her as she stepped from the plane. "Mom," said Andy, giving her a big hug, "Promise me when you go away, you'll leave something good for us to eat. Dad made Texas Hash and it was horrible--even Rusty wouldn't eat it!"
My wife tipped her glasses so I could see both of her eyes looking ominously into mine. "Texas Hash? What is that Bill?" Oh oh, I thought, another yellow alert!
BILLY DEAN writes articles, short stories and poetry, runs and hikes the trails around Tehachapi and enjoys time with his wife and four cats. His column, “Touchstones,” appears periodically in the Tehachapi News. Contact him gpsbilly@sbcglobal.net.
