The Secret Ingredient

When I was little my dad did just about all the cooking for his kids (and dogs).

There were a lot of us. 

I lost count  how many kids there were, because the kids would bring friends home and then some of the kids had kids so there were kids a plenty.

My dad would cook up anything that went a million ways.

I am no stranger to Mac' n Cheese, and Sir Sloppy Joe and our family go way back.  Hamburger Helper was a staple, and eggs fried up with leftover everythings was a mainstay.  There were stews and menudo, albondigas and pieces of bread filled with sandwich meats like bologna and turkey.  If FMV made it, we bought it.

And on everything,

went Tabasco.

I crawled downstairs this morning for an early breakfast of Mac n' Cheese instead of the usual Raisin Bran.  (Must be a sudden pregnancy thing, because I also had to have it for lunch).

I boiled the noodles (okay microwaved them, let's be honest, I'm not Martha Stewart)... and I reached for the milk.  I generously poured in the cheesy packets and black pepper, stirring to just the right non-descript questionable orangey-yellow color.  And just before I grabbed my spoon I grabbed the industrial-sized bottle of Tabasco from the pantry and dashed it along the top.

I always have the big bottle from Costco, because it is the Little Black Dress of my pantry, and goes with almost everything.

Our boring affordable food of yester-year was always razzle-dazzled by daddy's generous Tabasco pouring.  It was like faerie dust.  Our food went from drab to fab.

Kinda.

So I have adopted daddy's almost-famous-kinda-secret ingredient into my own cooking (microwaving).

Today I am a total advocate for adding Tabasco as the secret ingredient to your cooking, as well.  A sprinkle here and a dash there does wonders for the palate and sinuses alike.

But don't try to be a hero- when I say "dash" and "sprinkle" I mean a miniscule amount for you first-timers.

You don't get a tabasco award for using more than that.  You really gotta' ease yourself into it.