Crispy Fried Tacos

Valentine's Day. Five years since Earl died. And this year I barely noticed the date, not because I've forgotten — I will never forget — but because the date has been absorbed into the larger fabric of my life the way a scar is absorbed into skin. It's there. It's permanent. But it no longer defines the surface. The surface is the garden and the wedding and the book and the cooking and the great-grandchildren and the future that keeps arriving.

I did go to Bonaventure. I brought sunflowers — Denise's tradition now, replacing the carnations. I sat on the bench and I told Earl about the wedding. "Kayla's getting married, Earl. April. At First African. Same church, same aisle, same God. Devon is a good man. You would have liked him. You would have tested him, the way you test everyone — quietly, watching, waiting to see if they pass. Devon passes, baby. Three helpings of greens and four years of flowers. He passes."

Then I told him about the food. The two hundred pieces of fried chicken. The ten gallons of grits. The cornbread and the greens and the mac and cheese. I said, "I'm cooking for a hundred and twenty people on two knees that want to quit, and I will not quit, Earl. Not for this. Not for Kayla." And the wind blew through the Spanish moss and the egret landed on the pond and the world was quiet and I chose to believe that the quiet was Earl saying, "That's it, Dot."

Made shrimp and grits for dinner. February 14. Shrimp and grits. Not catfish. Not a memorial dinner. Just Tuesday dinner, which happens to be on the day my husband died, which happens to be on Valentine's Day, which happens to be just another day now. The grits were smooth. The shrimp curled into Cs. The quiet was full.

Now go on and feed somebody.

Shrimp and grits was that night’s dinner — simple, unhurried, just enough. But on the Tuesdays that follow ordinary ones, when I want that same feeling of feeding myself well without fuss or ceremony, I reach for these crispy fried tacos. They’re the kind of thing Earl would have eaten standing over the sink and called perfect, and that’s recommendation enough for me.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4 (2 tacos each)

Ingredients

1 lb ground beef (80/20)
1 packet (1 oz) taco seasoning
1/4 cup water
8 small corn tortillas
1 cup shredded Mexican blend cheese
1/2 cup vegetable oil, for frying
1 cup shredded iceberg lettuce
1/2 cup diced tomato
1/4 cup sour cream
1/4 cup salsa
Salt to taste

Instructions

Cook the beef. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, brown the ground beef, breaking it up as it cooks, about 6–8 minutes. Drain excess fat. Add taco seasoning and water, stir to combine, and simmer 3–4 minutes until thickened. Remove from heat.
Warm the tortillas. Wrap the corn tortillas in a damp paper towel and microwave for 30–45 seconds to make them pliable and prevent cracking when folded.
Fill the tacos. Spoon about 2 tablespoons of seasoned beef down the center of each tortilla. Top with a small pinch of shredded cheese. Fold each tortilla in half over the filling and press gently to close.
Fry the tacos. Heat vegetable oil in a heavy skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering, about 350°F. Working in batches, carefully lay folded tacos into the oil. Fry 2–3 minutes per side until the shell is deep golden and crisp. Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate.
Top and serve. Open each taco gently and add shredded lettuce, diced tomato, a dollop of sour cream, and a spoonful of salsa. Serve immediately while the shells are still crisp.

Nutrition (per serving)

Crispy Fried Tacos — When Tuesday Dinner Is Enough