Nabetse Selbonarg (Yury Esteban Escobar Grano
I'm an expert on eating fried food. My big belly that hangs longer and hardly lets me tying my shoelaces, well attested.
Over fifty years of my life I've been accumulating saturated fats in fried foods and neighborhood cafes, we know the body can not dissolve and end up becoming the famous "Bananitos" we adorn most people.
The room that we can go to a pool or a river and float we built.
Quickly arrived at any a fry ward, which installed the weekends in any corner of our Colombian municipalities and fearlessly attacked and start to devour blasted potatoes, chicken pies and / or meat, smoked bofe and fried, the pig sausages (So rich), to fill or blood sausage, with quesito aborrajados, the sausage, the pig rinds multichannel crispy, the pastry and other delicacies that having a mouthful of saliva I forget now.
But the ones I like are definitely pies.
But I find prefab patties in the freezer and reheat them are cold and undercooked on the inside.
Nothing better than a rich handmade pie on a wooden table in a molded plastic and the edge of a well, well fried in hot lard, it is crisp, with that guisito inside and with one or two tablespoons chili good home.
That leading Welsh onion cilantro and minced, with little juices of lemon, crushed chili devil (red Bitty well), that when one feels the smells and tastes delicious aroma and spicy flavor.
Not so with "The bottle chili" as we call the good tasting product to the dealers in the trade who are pure chemicals. And worse, in many dining establishments take him stir chopped cilantro and onion and chili exhibit like home.
When the patties are well tasty, I can eat up to ten or fifteen, quietly, in a while. And until some twenty or more if there is a delicious homemade hot pepper.
In my town there is a lady, she paisa, white, short, good physique and beautiful blue eyes, every Wednesday and weekends (Saturdays and Sundays) delivers his puestico selling empanadas.
Rosita makes the best pies they eat in our town and although it has changed several times and site location and now has up a tent with good metal and canvas (started with only the wooden table and the stove) the connoisseurs of fritanga always know where to find and taste their delicious empanadas.
It's exciting to hear the chirrear of pies in the bubbling hot butter in a large pot and some pretty grimy trajinada and she rides on a metal stove with dry wood pokes.
One day Saturday to reach well-known shopping and enjoy my pies, I asked the first five and sat on a wooden chair to have for good customers.
On the wooden table I placed a tray of pies and a delicious bowl of homemade chilli.
At the same time came Don Victor, a fat man and serious, with jeans and cowboy boots, he sat at another table next.
It also ordered five turnovers and receive started eating.
When the first bit pie with chili not resist the temptation of adding thereto two more tablespoons. When I was in the fourth term is the pot pie chili.
-Rosita, ran the Aji-I dared to say, concerned that I was only going by the second but still had chili pie at my table.
-Quiet and I bring more Rosita said with the same smile and kindly provided put another pot of chili at the next table.
Don Victor continued to eat pies until reaching the sum of twelve, the pepper is completely finished, as she said with much regret removing the fourth vessel of the table from my neighbor.
I hardly reach to eat six.
The big man got up, paid and retired quietly.
Upon leaving, I heard the girl said Rosita that helps in the fry:-That boar pa 'eat chili. We are repeatedly coming and runs out there. But tomorrow we are going to prepare a special one. Well loaded, or if we do not bankrupt the business.
I was intrigued at the way home because he assumed that this man should have in his mouth if he had spent much candela hot pepper with so few turnovers and I decided to return the next day.
The hope Sunday afternoon while sitting in the tasting fry a pie.
Shortly after Don Victor arrived, sat down and ordered their pies.
With a mischievous smile, Rosita goes through me and winks at me while he serves his pies and passes his pot of homemade chilli.
The fat man takes his first patty, bites to remove the top and proceeds to add a spoonful of chili.
Rosita and her assistant look maliciously waiting but savor the delicious chili picantísimo who prepared that day and were reserved exclusively for.
When you move the pie to his mouth and begins to chew, suddenly stands up, his face turns red as a ripe tomato chonto quaff the mouthful, swallows, breathes hard and your mouth becomes fierce dragon fauce of seem to breathe fire in the steam coming out of it.
Then, from another gulp, exclaims:-That good chili today the Rosita. If you want it because it was composed seriously considering not to eat pies here.
Rosita and her assistant, resigned, the smile frozen on his face that were sketching from a moment ago. I have not gotten past the shock.
July 13, 2012
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Nabetse Selbonarg (Yury Esteban Escobar Grano.
Published on e-Stories.org on 11/30/2012.