Shredded Chicken Tacos bring new flavors to your Tex Mex experience. Strawberry salsa and balsamic sauce--absolutely!
Waking up on Valentine’s Day and spending ALL morning in line to pick up a card at Hallmark.
I mean, I know you couldn’t possibly have forgotten such an important day, you’re just being fashionable late amIright?
But, STILL, the line.
AND THEN, you have to spend ALL day getting your hair and makeup did, and making sure that LBD (little black dress if you weren’t aware) looks PERFECT.
Which COULD involve having to put on Spanx. GAH.
SO. MUCH. UNCOMFORT for one day.
Now that you have that HORRIFICLY TERRIBLY BAD (+ insert any other synonyms for “DO NOT WANT” that you can think of) day in your head, picture this:
Wake up, and avoid the line BECAUSE you are doing this Valentine's DAY, home-grown style.
You’re channeling your inner Martha Stewart and making that card with your HANDS. ß WHOA.
AND, you’re rocking your pajama pants ALLLL night long because you’re making a romantic dinner AT HOME. ß WHOA, the sequel.
Now, doesn’t that sound like the better option? Yes. Yes, it does.
IF that doesn’t have you convinced, let me tell you WHAT you will be shoveling into your mouth all evening.
Shredded chicken tacos. Topped with some sweet strawberry salsa and balsamic reduction.
BUT, the lovey-dovey-NUMMY fest does not end there. The above mentioned goodness takes a little visit to texture-town with some creamy goat cheese and crunchy, roasty-toast pistachios.
All of that goodness does a little dance, doesn’t make a little love (because that’s weird) and does get down tonight up inside a big taco hug.
And hugs, my friends, can be pretty darn romantic.
Especially when there are strawberries involved. And eating.
Eating is always romantic.
Unless it’s sloppy joes.
Sidenote: My first date EVER was to eat sushi. And it was also the first time that I had ever eaten sushi in my LIFE.
Which means that, yes, I did try to bite it in half so that I wouldn’t have to spend my first date with a face full of food.
Yes, unattractive things happened.
No, I won’t tell you if there was a second date.
But, that is neither here nor there.
I have all kinds of arguments for why these tacos bursting with LURVE should be your V-Day dinner, but most of them are just really creepy.
So, Imma just keep them to myself and let you use your creative little noggins.
But, don’t blame me if all your thinking capabilities cease to exist once your face has a fling with a strawberry taco.
Sidenote: was the “taco fling” thing weird?
Don’t care. There’s tacos to eat.
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