Tyrannical yet Tactical Taquitos

I have nothing against babies.

I do, however, have a big something against idiot parents.

Let me give you some context. Imagine this:

You’ve been awake before the dawn started cracking. Your sunken, bloodshot eyes, dizzily condemn you to a hypnotic sleep inertia-like stumble into an unforgiving bathroom door. Stubbed toes. No coffee. This is not the way you intended your ‘holiday’ to start.

You muzzle through morning rituals and peel out the driveway 4 hours sooner than anticipated (because Southwest airlines decided to change your flight time the day prior). The blog dogs are confused and uninterested in bowel relief at this time. It’s 3:30 am.

The parking lot is jam packed. So you park somewhere near the Idaho border. The stylish little windbreaker you’re wearing is no help in battling the biting wind whipping up in your anemic face. It’s April, but it’s 28 degrees Fahrenheit.

The man at the check in counter is far too busy gossiping (with an obscene amount of energy for this time in the morning) to notice you (desperate vacationers seeking solace in the sun drenched suburbs of Phoenix.)

Switch tense to first person.

“Hi, hello…yes, um, can we check…” I’m rudely glared at. Pardon my intrusion. I’m just trying to fly the hell out of here.

The security line is all too familiar. Giant, butch, German super frau’s barking orders to the commoners in nazi like fashion. “Shoes off, belts off!!”

My thoughts…”F*** off??” I would beat her with my taquito if I could.

WHY…must she be so rude??

I need a pat down…apparently I look threatening in my form fitting yoga pants. “Yes, by all means”…unleash the high horses! There’s nothing like a good public feel up from a burly linebacker at 5 am.

Is it too early for a cocktail? Oh…right, they don’t serve those anymore. My 4 choices are 1. water 2. coke 3. diet coke and 4. sprite (but remember to order by the number only, or you’ll get reprimanded for not following instructions.) A riveting selection. So dumb, I’ll just have a cold taquito.

The gate is also packed. In antiquated cattle call construct, the rowdy stampede approaches the boarding door. One by one, we jockey for position…”I’m seat b 32, and you’re b 34.” This is the hospitable equivalent of saying “get behind me you feckless imbecile”.

Finally. We are on board. We sit down with a sigh of relief.

And then it happens. A shrill, shrieking scream right into my right tympanic membrane. The young couple behind us are holding what seems to be something between an infant and a toddler. A ‘lap child’ if you will…I’m guessing 10 months? I’m clueless how to visually assess a child’s age at this time.

Screech after hyena-like screech – I white knuckle the arm rest. The child is crying. No, he’s happy? – in the loudest way possible.

Nope. Wrong again.

Now, a musical synchronization of abusive thumps highjack the back of my seat. The parents encourage this vacillating miniature monster with repetitive coos. “Who’s the happiest boy? Who is? WHO??!”

Squeaky toys are added to the excitement. Intermittent violent outbursts. The sharp, clangorous speak of his mothers ear splitting voice, (surely deafening to canines) accompany every turbulent, gusty outburst.

We hit 10,000 feet as 10,000 little feet patter the back of my weary body’s chair. Oblivious nitwits.

I’ll stuff my face with another spicy taquito. Damn, I wish I had some Don Julio.

A moment of silence. Oh, man. He’s asleep! I soak in these 30 uninterrupted seconds and try to doze off on the Cuban’s cozy shoulder.

The plane drops. My intestines wind up a tangled volvulus in my throat.

A soft cry. A lingering, crescendoing whine. Louder, louder still. Back to blaring squeals. There goes my ear drum.

I must implore my tactical senses and calm this pint sized tyrant. I make eye contact with the fickle youngster. He smiles. I ask his name. His mother replies; Tyrus.

Fitting. Tyrus the tiny tyrant. Damnit. He’s cute.

I smile back. He kicks me the whole way there.

You wanna know something babies can’t have? Bison taquitos with spicy guac – and they make for a great airplane snack whether your hangry or just angry:)

Feeds 2 reasonable adults, 0 babies; Takes 40 min. Travels well.

Ingredients for Baked Bison Taquitos

  • 1 lb ground bison
  • 15-20 small corn tortillas or 8 larger flour tortillas, cut in half
  • 2/3 cup full fat greek yogurt
  • 2/3 cup cream cheese
  • 2 tsp cayenne pepper
  • 1/3 red onion, diced
  • 1/3 large poblano, diced
  • 2 tsp sweet paprika
  • EVOO, salt and pepper
  • Toppings: white cheddar, more diced red onion and poblanos, jalapeños, salsa, sour cream or Greek yogurt

Ingredients/Method for the Spicy Guac

  • 2 large, ripe avocados, diced
  • Handful heirloom cherry tomatoes, quartered
  • 1/3 red onion, small dice
  • Half a jalapeño, diced
  • 1 tsp garlic powder
  • 1 tbsp cilantro, chopped
  • 2 tsp avo oil
  • Salt and pepper
  • Juice of 1 lime

Combine all ingredients for spicy guac and taste. Season as needed and then keep in the fridge until departing.

Method for the Taquitos

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

Sauté the onion and poblano in a medium large pan until translucent (about 6-8 min), stirring often.

Add bison and season liberally with salt, paprika and pepper. Cook until nearly cooked through (about 6-8 min).

While meat is cooking, combine cream cheese, greek yogurt and cayenne in a bowl with a pinch of salt.

Remove meat from heat and allow to cool a few min. Once cooled add bison to cream cheese mixture and incorporate well.

(Now is a good time to wrap your tortillas in a damp paper towel and put them in the microwave for 45 seconds). Alternatively you can heat them in the oven until just warmed through.

Line one circular edge of the tortilla with a heaping spoon of the filling. Roll in tightly, like you’re rolling a cigar. Place them each seam side down in a greased baking dish.

Spray/brush the tops with avocado oil and salt. Bake at 400 degree for 25 min.

If you are traveling with these tasty snacks, place them individually in foil and then in a plastic bag. Don’t forget some napkins.

I have nothing against babies.

I have a big SOMETHING against tyrannical parents.

What else makes for great travel snacks you ask??

**Wanna know something cataclysmically ironic? I found out I was pregnant on this trip. 🙂 And am currently vowing to not be the nitwit parent I so detested in this scenario.

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