Since You Asked
J'Ai Failli Attendre

Strange, But True

I am, as we speak, trying a new chicken enchilada recipe (courtesy of Cook's Illustrated Cover & Bake, which in its turn was the courteous cookbook recommendation of someone - for which I thank you.) As I chopped the onion and the garlic and hummed tunelessly I realized that I kept repeating a Spanish-sounding word in my head: ban-DAY-ho.

Huh, I thought.

Ban-DAY-ho, my head repeated. Ban-Daaaaaaaaaaaay-ho, like that, like a Scooby Doo ghost. Over and over.

Weird, right, so once I got the onion browning I shimmied over to my computer to see if this might be an actual Spanish word [although I once spent a longish chunk of time in Honduras the only Spanish I know to this day is "quisiero uno bose de leche" (oh, and I am illiterate, in case you could not tell)].

So I wrote "bandajo" into babel fish and it returned- nothing. Then I typed "bandejo." Still nothing.

I frowned and thought about it again and realized Ah-HA! the word must be pen-DAY-ho, with a 'P'. Puh puh puh. Pen-DAY-ho. My accent always was abysmal.

Pleased with this linguistic detective work, I typed in "pendejo" and, as this pile of jalapenos is my witness, babel fish quickly returned the translation.... "asshole". Apparently I have been standing here in my own kitchen unknowingly calling myself an asshole for the past ten minutes.

Sooooooo....... my subconscious speaks Spanish. Also, it hates me.

Back later, post-enchiladas, to give you the 4-1-1 on my parts and bits.