Here is my latest post from Barcelona Bites!
It was a dark and stormy night when Mr. Barbecue and Señorita Tetilla first crossed paths between the steamy folds of a tortilla with questionable morals.
They never would have met under normal circumstances but this was no ordinary time in this particular Barcelona kitchen of 1970s decor. This was a kitchen where jars of Skippy peanut butter sat stubbornly next to disdainful bottles of Spanish jerez oloroso. It was a kitchen where wholesome bags of Baker's Angel Flake Sweetened Coconut cozied up to faintly sinister soy sauce containers. It was a time of culinary indecision and cultural clash. A time when a manly bottle of American BBQ sauce and a shapely Spanish cheese could find themselves experiencing love, true love.
Senorita Tetilla: Hola Señor Barbeekoo, yo soy Tetilla.
Mr. Barbecue: Well hello there little lady, you certainly are, er, buxom...
Señorita Tetilla: Ay dios mio...que fuerte eres!
Yes indeed, when faced with a tit's worth of Tetilla cheese and a strong hankering for grilled chicken and pineapple quesadillas, I decided that Monteray Jack cheese be damned! Monteray Jack cheese is for pussies. Monteray Jack cheese is for, well, people who live in America who can go to the supermarket and just buy it.
It is not for the likes of me.
All for the best though because it turns out that Tetilla and Barbecue go together like Antonio Banderas and Melanie Griffith, like Tom Cruise and Penelope Cruz. Well, better than them.
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