Flaunt Your Flautas!



It’s day 262 of the challenge. Only 102 days left to go.

Armed with nothing but a sense of humour, an iPhone camera, and random kitchen utensils, I decided to cook all the recipes from the first Thug Kitchen cookbook and blog about them. Within a year.

This time I made the sweet corn and green chile baked flautas. Then I caught my husband red handedly trying to snap a  photo of me papping the flautas when they were done. I gave him the ‘what are you doing??’ look. I had to  pap those flauta bitches because they were sexy as hell, and would’ve drawn paparazzi wherever they went. They were like those skinny, slinky models from exotic far away places, with the amazing bone structure and pouty lips that everyone drools over. Never having made a flauta before I didn’t  know quite what to expect. I hadn’t even heard of a flauta before Thug Kitchen came along. They were like skinny versions of burritos. (At least the way I like to (over)stuff a burrito.)  They were like a down-to-earth version of a supermodel. Sorta like a model on her day off, wearing ripped jeans and a T-shirt, but still flaunting her sultry pout like it gives her a license to do whatever she wants.

(Ignore the strawberries in the picture, they’re for something else. Avert your eyes and curiosity – they’re not for you.)

The filling is easy to rustle up, and then you just roll those bad boys like the you rolled those joints in college. It’s like riding a bicycle, once you know how to, you never forget. I never get how the pictures of beans on the can are never the same as the beans in real life. Look at that can, and then look at those beans. There was nothing speckled about them. They were uniformly coloured. Boring. I felt ripped off. Cheated. I felt like I was looking at the photos of fries at MacDonald’s, where they’re all joyously leaping out of the shiny red carton screaming to be eaten, and then when they rock up on your tray they’re all soggy and limp. So disappointing. Oh well.

The beans did the trick, so once stuffed, I rolled their flauta asses up and stuck them in the oven. The trick with smearing a little bit of bean mixture on the end of the wrap is a good one, because it holds the flauta together.

I was surprised the Thugs had said that there’d be filling enough to make 12 flautas because I was lucky to make 9. Maybe I wasn’t making them skinny enough. I can imagine they would’ve been even better if I’d skinnied them down some more, and spread the filling out across more wraps because they’d probably have been even crispier and crunchier than they already were.

Once they’d reemerged from the oven, they were a lovely light golden brown in places and had lost that softness they had before they went in. It was like they’d spent a month at the gym toning up, and then gotten themselves a spray tan. They were sexy as hell.

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I sprinkled their asses with tomatoes and slapped some lime wedges on the plate and they were good to go. Then I papped them for good measure and threw a couple of salsas on the table.

I’m not sure what the ‘right way’ is to eat these (and I don’t really give a rat’s ass), but I drizzled lime juice over them and they were gorgeous. The whole thing had been quick and easy to prepare so they’d make a great lunch or easy weeknight dinner.

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I threw some home-made pineapple salsa on the side too and jalapenos and that helped the cause. It took the flavours to the next level. Yum.

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I’d definitely make these again..and again. Tasty bastards. I’d try rolling them thinner next time, so they’d be even crispier.  I want those bitches crackling like a summer bonfire.

73 Recipes down, 42 to go.

What’s next on the menu?



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