best damn quesadillas

[aguacateatlaw]

Foggy had come to the hotel a handful of times over the last few months but this particular stint was problematic because he was stuck. While he liked the free mini-vacations, being away from his work and his clients for this long was a little grating and he was starting to get stir crazy.

There wasn't much need for an attorney in the hotel, considering there weren't many people with legal troubles and, well, he was only familiar with the law in the US and particularly in New York but there was always room for another cook. Foggy was actually a decent cook because he'd paid attention when his mom made things and then had a streak in college when he wanted to impress a girl and watched any and everything he could find on the Food Network. The girl hadn't worked out but the recipes had stuck around which is why he found himself in the hotel kitchen taking over for a suddenly sick chef.

He had always had a soft spot for Mexican food and while his spin on it probably wasn't as good as it could be, he put a lot of heart into it. It wasn't hard to whip up quesadillas, a nice cheese dip and some homemade salsas and guacamole and Foggy was in a really good mood once everything started heating up on the grill and putting a pleasant, comforting aroma in the air. It was like home in more ways than one and he was hoping that Matt would be around to enjoy.

Once he'd finished up cooking, he went back out into the dining room proper for two purposes: one, to eat his creation and two, to take additional orders.

"Anyone want any of these delicious quesadillas? I've also got a tamale recipe if you ask me really, really nicely."

As long as they didn't do it in Spanish. He might be able to cook from the menu but he still didn't speak the language more than a few things here and there.

Damn his decision to take Punjabi.