After nearly two weeks of recovering from what could have resulted in a fatal car accident, I am back in the kitchen with not quite a spring in my step, but joy and gratitude for being able to cook again. It wasn’t quite a “car accident” since it was only me, my small motorhome and a boat trailer. I survived what could have been a tragic event! The G-man and I were out at the lake with family all day and decided to leave after dark because our generator was not working. Neither of us were interested in trying to sleep in this Arizona heat! So, we separated into our respective lake tasks; me in the motorhome hauling the boat trailer to the ramp, and G-man on the lake bringing the boat around to the ramp. I made the 4-mile trek from Bartlett Flats to the main boat ramp, swung the rig and trailer around and parked it under the light so G-man could see me when he arrived with the boat. Well, I put ‘er in park, jumped out of the rig and ran around to the passenger side to get some water for the dogs (it was really hot and our two babies were panting up a storm!). As I was leaning into the passenger side, with my feet still on the concrete ramp, the Chinook came out of gear! I didn’t have the leverage to pull myself up into the cockpit to stop this massive train wreck from occurring! So, I hung on for dear life on the passenger door dragging my feet then finally gave up and hit the ground…with a “kerbump” on my left foot (from the front wheel of the Chinook). I could feel myself land on my right rib cage and shoulder, with a light head bang against the concrete. I missed my hip completely since I was essentially hanging nearly horizontal. As I was hanging onto the door (by the window handle – this is an older model..ahem), I recall thinking to myself “I’m going to die!”. I’ve never been in a situation where those thoughts ran through my mind. I was surviving on adrenaline at this point. As I was crawling toward my flip flops hearing the motorhome rolling backwards toward the lake, I heard the distinct sound of grinding, screeching metal. Thank God!!!! The trailer jackknifed which kept the rig, trailer and my precious little dogs from continuing to roll into the dark lake water.
I put my shoes on and ran as fast as I could to the motorhome. I have no idea how I was able to do this considering the damage to my left foot, but nevertheless, I ran!! I jumped in the drivers seat and set the parking break with my “good” foot. My Yeti was next to me between the seats (this is where the dogs ride) so I pulled an ice cold bottle of water out, took a big swig and set it against my left ankle for some relief. I waited for G-man to arrive, but to no avail. It seemed like an hour as I was writhing in pain and sobbing. My dogs, especially my little Toby who is 10 years old and knows when Mama’s sad or hurt, seemed beside themselves. They were licking my arm and staring at me not knowing what was going on or what to do. After about 20 minutes, I crawled into the back of the rig to lie down and elevate my foot. Finally, my G-man arrived! He jumped into the drivers seat having no clue what had happened and said “It’s ok honey. I’m not mad” (he thought I had tried to back the trailer into the lake and jacked things up!). All I said is “well, wait until you see my foot”! He immediately jumped out and came to the back. Of course, he was mortified. My foot looked like an alien covered in blood! It was unidentifiable as a foot! G-man put my foot on ice and set me up so my foot was elevated onto the counter top near the sink. He jumped back into the drivers seat and sped up the hill trying to reach a cell signal as quickly as he could. At this point, I wasn’t really aware of time. My guy drove me to a fire station in Carefree where the paramedics were able to assess the damage and put me in a collar (so attractive and comfortable…do I care?). The ambulance came. I don’t know how many hunky male people there were (plus the one guy with the smile hanging out the back of his 501’s..as I’m told later) squeezed me out of the motorhome on a bread board as I scraped the sides of the door with my fingernails (gasp!) and whisked me off to the hospital. Morphine, xrays…more morphine and CATscan….then NO BROKEN BONES! Thankful! Amazeballs! Say What? Thank God!!! And, may I say…Weird?
In conclusion (like I’m writing an English paper), I had an experience that left me very bruised and sore. And THANKFUL! Ribs are the worst, although not being able to walk for two weeks is frustrating. Happy to have had this freak accident come out the way it did. Even the insurance company thought this was a “unicorn” accident, which I find odd. Seems this sort of thing had to have happened before. Hmmm.
So, not the most usual way to begin a recipe post, but real. And thankful that I can actually make food and post my recipes for readers like you. And, sharing a strange story like this along the way a bonus!??
- 5 Fresh Tomatillos medium-sized
- ½ White onion halved
- 3 cloves Fresh garlic unpeeled
- 1 Serrano pepper
- 1 leaves handful Fresh Cilantro about ½ cup or more if desired
- cup ¼ chicken broth or more to taste
- tsp ½ Kosher salt or more to taste
In a dry cast iron pan, add the tomatillos (whole), onion (halved), garlic and the serrano pepper (more than 1 if you're not a gringo!). Cook over medium heat turning occasionally until vegetables are charred (about 7-8 minutes).
Remove the skin from the garlic. In a blender or food processor, add onion, garlic, serrano pepper(s), cilantro, chicken broth and salt. Blend until mixed but semi-chunky (to your liking). Add additional salt to taste. Serve immediately and/or store in an air-tight container in the refrigerator up to two weeks.