My suegra is a great lady. And is known for her cooking abilities. She is one of those people that you cannot leave her house without at least eating *something*. I like that. I have learned much from her since I first met her, and especially over the past couple of months.
Some of her recipes, while made the way they should be made, are a *bit* too unique for this American girl’s taste. There have been a couple of interesting concoctions that have left me with raised eyebrows and hesitation to say yes to whatever I’m being offered.
For example, the other day I was at her house. We had been invited for lunch. I was on the computer (her house=my internet source), and in she walks with a giant bottle of Coca Cola. We rarely have cokes at our house, so this was a treat indeed. Mexican coke has more sugar too, which makes it all that much better. On a hot afternoon, nothing refreshes quite like a coke.
But instead of offering me a glass like she normally would, she opened the thing up and poured it into the pot where the chicken was cooking. She then threw in some onions. Up my eyebrows went. She saw me, and knowing my eyebrow look, she smiled and explained that she had been wanting something sweet. I smiled back.
A little while later we were all around the table, with the chicken as the center piece. I [hesitantly] took a piece. It was marvelous! Towards the end of the meal, I was scrapping the bowl for the sauce to eat on a tortilla. I mean seriously, d.e.l.i.c.i.o.u.s.
So good in fact, that I asked for a couple more details about the part I had not seen, and made it myself today. It was simple, and turned out great. More bowl scrapping occurred. I mentioned to Rafa that it will probably become one of my “go-to” recipes when I do not know what else to do, or when I am short on time. He whole heartily concurred. Pollo de Coca Cola is here to stay.