DIY Commencement

I called Beth yesterday afternoon. "I've got a problem. I am craving Chipotle. And I learned today that I am 306.43 miles from the nearest Chipotle."

Plans for DIY commenced immediately. "That usually helps you with the cravings," Beth commented.

Overdramatic? Perhaps, but I'm not quite sure. I swear the employees of the Tex-Mex chain put something in their food that makes people immediately addicted. Additional consumption only makes the addiction harder to shake.

Which explains why I am still hooked. Maybe it's something special mixed in with the lime- and cilantro-seasoned rice. Hmm...

Having been warned by roomates warned, "You're going to get hooked," I was formally introduced to Chipotle goodness. It helped (or worsened?) that my apartment building was one building over (read: about 50 steps) from a Chipotle. It was one of countless in the greater DC area, as it seemed every street corner in the District had either a Chipotle or a Starbucks (everything this temporary District dweller needed in live), while signs in Metro stations wittily touted the aluminum-wrapped bundles of food.

But then I moved. From the land of Chipotle-everywhere-you-look to the land of What's-a-Chipotle? The closest is in New York Effing City.

A couple of months ago, I realized that I can't completely replicate Chipotle, but I could try. That night, my flatmates and I staged the first DIY Chipotle Night.

We make everything we need - chicken, green peppers, onions, rice, black beans, salsa, cheese, etc. Set up everything in a precise line of "stations" along the kitchen counter. Black beans first, chicken/pepper/onion, rice, salsa cheese, sour cream if desired (by the flatmates, not by me). Put too much on, realize eating with one's hands is difficult, if not impossible. Consume and bask in the wonder of it.

While shopping to pick up necessary items, Beth and I came across Mike's Hard Lime, apparently the latest product for a company we knew ever so well in college. We decided they would serve as a perfect alternative to margaritas and picked up a six-pack. It was, I believe, the first time I or someone I'm has bought a six-pack of Mike's since Beth came to DC for Dual Day and Tori Day. Appropriately enough, what was on the menu that evening? Chipotle.

I stretched out on the couch to watch American Dreams, stuffed with a fine attempt at faux-Chipotle and buzzing off fizzy carbonated Mike's.

Craving satisfied. For now.