breakfast tostada

Made these breakfast tostadas yesterday.  Delicious.  Fuck!  Excuse me for a moment...take this time to think about the things you will do wrong today: use a shovel instead of a rake to move wet leaves; drive a car with a cup of coffee on the hood; make a tent out of propane: I am back.  Had to run inside and take care of some business.  Right.  My thoughts about variations on Mexican themes: I used to be anti-fusion, still am, really, hate the fusion movement in cooking because, honestly, the dishes usually end up being violations against good taste.  Not that the food tastes bad, but really, what's the point of stuffing Korean BBQ into a four tortilla?  Or Mexican ravioli?  Just satisfy yourself with making a good tamale.   Just eat your BBQ and get on with it.

Really, I shouldn't be against fusion.  I mean, I understand how the world of food goes round and round.  Cultures share, steal, dominate, push their agendas onto other cultures, trade, borrow, and so forth, and food changes with time.  We eat whatever foods are available, and our diets are a consequence of our situation, our station, our location in time and on the planet.  Still, this fusion movement reminds me of someone who has read Darwin, but someone who has misunderstood evolution.  Foods and food cultures change as they will, not as we will them to.  Some fusion chefs just push too hard.  The audiences love it.  Some people want to ram Tibetan foods into pierogi.  Tibetan pierogi.  Whatever.

  
If break these breakfast tostadas down into their component parts, it becomes pretty obvious that I have not reinvented the tostada; in fact, this is a pretty traditional tostada, whatever that means: deep fried, stone-ground yellow corn tortilla (CRUNCH!), mashed up beans (with lots of added fat; I used butter, not traditional lard), cheese, scrambled egg (wanted runny yolks, fucked up), and sauteed KALE.  It's really only the kale that pushes this recipe into a somewhat new-ish terrain.  I don't know how big Mexicans are on kale.  Not that big, I imagine.  Small on kale.