The other night, I was a little hungry, but not really. there wasn’t much to eat in the house and I certainly didn’t feel like driving or biking to Trader Joe’s. But I knew if I didn’t eat, I’d wake up frustrated at about 3am.

So the answer? Corn tortillas, oaxaca cheese and chorizo from the mercado across the street. Like many Americans, my idea of a quesadilla was originally jack or cheddar cheese, or even american cheese, in a flour tortilla. That is until I met my first boyfriend, who was born in mexico. And thusly met his cousins, who are to this day two of my best friends; the people to whom I give all credit for my valuable albeit limited knowledge of Mexican cooking. I can make a mean tostada with shredded chicken, tomatillo salsa, guacamole that’ll sear your nose hairs, and of course, quesadillas.

I might be one of the only white girls around to whom this is “comfort food.”

I think what I love most about these is that in the past, I’ve generally had them made for me after a night of fun times and alcohol. So I’m sure there’s a component of good memories here. They go so great with a Corona. Not to mention, the ultra-nourishing grease factor. We mustn’t ever forget the grease factor. Odelay!

Fast forward to today, when I wanted to hit the farmer’s market for the week’s goodies, and overslept instead. I ended up at the Milk Pail, and couldn’t resist the beautiful mint, which would go nicely with an eggplant recipe I eyed a few weeks back.

When I got home, the overpowering scent of fresh mint said one thing: Mojitos. Except this posed a problem: no light rum, only dark. Hey, when the craving hits, compromise, right? So I did. After checking with an online source first, to ensure it wouldn’t be a hideous mistake. I gotta say, it was pretty tasty.

I wonder what kind of dirty looks I’d get if I ordered this in a bar. A mojito with dark rum, that is. I should try it sometime. Until then, salud!