I generally consider myself a good traveler. I’ve been on more planes than I can count and I can live out of a carry-on bag for months. (Yes, I’ve actually done this.) I’ve navigated bus systems in other languages (although the night I spent in a Mexico City bus station ranks among the more sleepless in my life), dealt with intimidating customs officials (Vietnam, anyone?), and found my way through numerous airports, which are invariably poorly signed (Chicago-O’Hare, I’m looking at you.) I’m one of those annoying people who get’s upset at anyone who takes longer than 37.5 seconds in the security line and I’m beyond blase about flying.
But somehow, this has been the year of misadventures.
It all started in May. (Actually, it started in April, when I fell down an entire flight of stairs, landed on my head and gave myself a nasty concussion on the way to the airport, but I’ll leave that one out.) I was sick. I was studying for the medical boards. I needed to get home ASAP. I shoved my poor kitty into her flight carrier, dragged my suitcase out my door and somehow missed the train I needed, getting to the airport 43 minutes before my flight. No big deal; I’m a security and TSA line expert. Only, my airline has changed their policy and bags must be checked 45 minutes before take off. No amount of begging, pleading, flirting or attempted bribery will convince the airline person to check in my bags and put them on the conveyor belt next to the other suitcases clearly marked “Seattle.” Unkind gate agent tells me I’m out of luck, refuses to help me with rebooking, and then ignores my request to call 911 when I get an asthma attack. I eventually get home the next day. That was fiasco and embarrassment #1.
Now, it’s July. I’m on my way to Samoa. I flew into Hawaii the night before, finding some friends to stay with only after I landed. I’m feeling chill and cool and spontaneous and looking forward to arriving back on my favorite islands in the world. But gate agent lady tells me I can’t board her plane, because my return ticket is out of a neighboring country and the puddle jumper connection between Apia and Pago hasn’t issued tickets yet, so I have no proof I’ll leave Samoa. Cue panic, international phone calls, last minute ticket purchasing and me actually standing in the jetway, refusing to let them shut the door until my new ticket comes through and I can get on the plane. Did I mention the next flight wasn’t for a week? This was fiasco and embarrassment #2.
Bad things come in threes, right? Let’s make it short. I was on my way to Houston, laid over in Atlanta, and my wallet was stolen. I didn’t discover this til I landed in Texas and realized I was in a strange city, with keys to an apartment I’d never been to, no transportation and absolutely no cash. Let me just say that was mildly panic inducing. Luckily, my parents rescued me by hiring me a car.
When I finally got all my cards cancelled and reissued and managed to get enough time off work to visit my bank and withdraw some money, the first thing I did was go to a grocery store and the second thing I did was make this meal. Sometimes, a little roasted onion and a few cherry tomatoes are all you need to feel the world will be okay and your travel curses must be over.
And I threw some salt over my left shoulder. Just in case.
I really enjoyed how the sweet roasted onions melded with the caramelized and sticky tomatoes; the red pepper was an additional layer of flavor that finished off the burrito.
The original recipe was more of a suggestion, and this is, too. Roast some veggies, smash them together on a tortilla and eat it.
Biblical Breakfast Burrito
Adapted from Paula Wolfert.
Allow 45 minutes. Serves 2.
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 pint cherry tomatoes
1 teaspoon sea salt
2 roasted red peppers
2 tortillas or other flatbread
Preheat the oven to 300. Spread the olive oil on the bottom of a 13″x9″ baking pan. Peel the onion and slice it into thick rounds and place in the pan. Scatter the tomatoes in an even layer around the onion rounds. Sprinkle with the sea salt and roasted for 45 minutes to an hour, or until the onion is soft and brown and the tomatoes are well roasted and close to burning.
Place half the onions on a tortilla and smash with the back of a big spoon. Add half the tomatoes and one of the red peppers. Salt to taste and roll up.
Mary of One Perfect Bite |
Mary of One Perfect Bite | Joanne of Eats Well With Others | Val of More Than Burnt Toast | Susan of The Spice Garden | Heather of girlichef | Miranda of Mangoes and Chutney | Jeanette of Jeanette’s Healthy Living | Kathleen of Bakeaway with Me | Sue of The View from the Great Island | Linda of There and Back Again | Kathleen of Gonna Want Seconds | Barbara of Moveable Feasts | Amy of Beloved Green | Linda of Ciao Chow Linda | Deborah of Taste and Tell | Barbara of Lines from Linderhof | Nancy of My Picadillo | Mireya of My Healthing Eating Habits | Veronica of My Catholic Kitchen | Annie of lovely things