My Mountain of Glory

As I was perusing a friends photos on Facebook, I came across of photo of a mountain of gloriousness. Beneath the photo, the caption read something to this effect, "Huevos Rancheros, a mountain of glory." That was it. This recipe HAD to become a part of my repertoire. Not even a week later I was watching Bobby Flay's Throw Down, and low and behold, the theme of the show was Huevos Rancheros. How in the world had this Mexican (or is it Tex-Mex?) miracle escaped for me all these years? Was it a coincidence that the Rancheros should show itself to me twice within one week? No. Someone had given me a sign, there can be no other reason. I had to conquer the glory of the Rancheros. My mouth watered for weeks at the thought of the consuming such a masterpiece. Finally, I had come to my senses and purchased the ingredients to create my own masterpiece.

Last spring, while visiting my brother in Colorado, we were discussing our various experiences with cooking, I told him how much I loved Mexican food and I had tried preparing many variations of the enchilada. He told me I had to try his recipe for what he called "New El Paso" enchilada sauce, named because he thought it tasted so much like "Old El Paso," only better. Last weeks enchiladas became the first to wear the beloved sauce. It was fantabulous. Unfortunately I didn't have enough ingredients to savor every last drop of the sauce and so it lay prisoner inside a plastic cell, tucked away inside a frigid prison. I couldn't bear to casually toss the sauce in the trash. No, it had much better aspirations. It was to be a part of the "Mountain of Glory".

In the week prior to the preparation of the Rancheros, I began to doubt the completeness of my array of ingredients. There was something missing. Avocados. The almighty avocado must be the final ingredient to top my Mountain of Glory. It just must. I was proud of my decision as I ventured to the grocery store the night before my creation. I entered the store and located the avocado bin. Much to my chagrin and horror, the avocados were all incredibly too firm. None of them had reached the proper maturity prerequisite of the Ranchero topper. I stood there, hovering over the avocados for minutes, digging upon digging, until I finally accepted my defeat. I walked out of the store, head down in disgust. But none to worry, the glory of the Rancheros could not be overshadowed by the gloom of the evening.

And so the day came, I awoke and the previous nights heartache had vanished. The excitement of the event to come was much stronger. I began to lay the ingredients on the counter, one-by-one. New El Paso sauce, check. Eggs, check. Grated Monterey Jack cheese, check. Tortillas, check. Black beans, check. And finally all the necessarily elements for a fresh pico de gallo to top mountain. I chopped and diced, preparing the pico, opened cans, heated various elements and prepared the eggs, over-easy style. My hands, shaking in anticipation, began to assemble the mountain. The pan fried tortilla was laid down first to serve as the foundation. Black beans were scattered across the vast plain of the flour structure. Next, the eggs are carefully placed upon the bed of black beans.The sauce is drizzled upon the eggs, cheese sprinkled and pico strewn. Finally a dollop of Daisy and the masterpiece is complete. I did it, I really did it. It's beautiful, my masterpiece. I take pride photographing all the glory of the Rancheros. The shots produced by my digital SLR just not coming up to Par. In desperation, I pull out my brand-spanking, shining even, Iphone 4. The device shoots the medium as it should be, beautifully.

I dive into my Mountain of Glory, striving to capture each piece of the puzzle, the spoonful enters my mouth and I am in heaven. The dish, much to my surprise, is light and fresh. Not heavy like many other American style breakfasts can be. Each new bite is a different experience as the ingredients intermingle with each other. I finish my masterpiece feeling satisfied and not weighed down. I am happy. Next time, however, I vow to top my Mountain of Glory with a bright green slice of avocado. And who knows, maybe I'll swap the New El Paso sauce with a green sauce made from the mighty Tomatilla. I dunno, just a thought. Everyone knows, I can never leave anything unchanged.