Take the Dilla and Run

Emmigration was my muse. I knew this would be my last chance at Deliriamnesty. Dozens of readers awaited new posts. At a bloggerheads: the semester was ending, and there was precious little time between being accused of paintball vigilantism by the BroPo (innocent, for the record) and saying my peaces to various Cuban/Brazilian/Newyorican residents-in-waiting to end the blogjam. I gave He Hate Me a bittersweet farewell, and prepared for a Sweet'n'Sour swansong of my own.

Instead of the traditional shredded cheese, I ripped apart slices of Swiss and cheddar and layed them out like bathers on the deck of my chili-dilla. The turkey got the hand treatment just as the Ratty's footsoldiers were snatching away the lunch meat tongs. I doused the thing.

I threw that bad boy on and let it roast...the cheese got a suntan on the Southwestern squasher, where the Roots and Shoots are picked. I've never been a watcher. I wandered off, to the North, were a frozen soft-serve delight was just waiting for me to sprinkle a fractured cone all over it.

Back at the table, I sat in perfect contentment between my slowly melting frosted Great North and dillacacy-quality South of the Border delight. A grand adios, and hopefully just a preview of September's triumphs to come. Hasta la vista, my senorita...la Refectoria.

Nice Turnout in the CIT Tonight

Well, it's been a while, all too long, and that's pretty unpardonable. I guess I can only attempt to pledge that it's been time devoted to worthwhile pursuits.

In my breast pocket there are two tickets stamped "Brown University Food Service" with serial numbers 005352 and 008874. I'm saving them up for the next time something special happens. I'm saving them up for the two words that make my culinary salvation come down to me, in the flesh: steak dilla. Until then, I'm on hiatus.

Many of you may have seen this (down near the bottom). I present to my most loyal and patient visitors--or RSS subscribers--a pair of poems based on that very piece. The second one has been run through a sort of N+7 machine, except I used the AP Stylebook. The results are only marginally quesa-related, but I hope you'll forgive.

#1: Donuts
#2: Yon dilla

Rec

HEY FUCKERZ PUT UR JALAPENOZ UP INSIDE UR DILLAZ.

Fat Everyday

Dear Dilla Fellowship,
These are trying times. The tub of guacamole has dried up, salsa is sparsa, and the dilla grilla is all-too-often unwarmed. In an age like this, it's a natural human impulse to turn to the spiritual. Al Qaedilla has turned to the Prophet, to bloodshed, and a madman's quest for profile views. But for those of us who don't think "tha Base" is so jihot, we're left with a certain uncertainty about where to find aid and comfort.
I questioned no longer when I walked into the Refectory today. The answer was right before my eyes, like the Virgin Mother in the grilled cheese on the Roots & Shoots line: Lent.
I ask only for your advice: what dilla component shall I dispose of for the next forty days? Which part has the necessary gravity, the appropriate sacerdotal character? I'm eager for your comments and spiritual advice.
Charitably yours,
Godilla

Raise Your Swords

That dilla was for the Tamil people. No regrets: dillaicious (resistance, persistence).

Official Statement

Let the United States know that, with Dillah Almighty's permission, until it shuts down all sites promoting the causes of Wraps or Sandwiches, our grilling, and subsequent blogging, will forever continue on its soil.

We are eager to die for more profile views.

Ode on a Grecian Dilla

O crescent shape! So lightly grilled! with flatbread
Of golden brown yet slightly undercooked,
With cucumber, olive and the trodden chickpea;
Thou, cheesy form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity. Hot Panini grill!
When young generations shall their pastas waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other foods
Than ours, digest in man, to whom thou say'st,
"Dilla is truth, truth dilla"-- that is all
Ye know in The Ratty, and all ye need to know.

Just Another Day at the Dilla Grilla

Ingredients:
Standard tortilla; mozzarella cheese, feta cheese, carrots, mushrooms, green onions; sweet and sour sauce on the side (NOT included within the tortilla)

Grilling time:
45 seconds per side, or until the dilla is about .25 inches thick

Quantity:
Two

'Twas a ***, a dillacacy, both times. Crunchy, but still tender; tasty, but not transcendent.