The Big Enchilada (Sam Hunter #1)

by L.A. Morse

Mama had run the restaurant for more than forty years, and she was an institution that was known in every ghetto in the country. Like all institutions, she inspired a lot of wild stories. Most concerned her immense wealth: everybody said she had a ton of money buried under her house, but she said she was just a poor cook. She laughed when she said it, and no one believed her. The best story, though, went back a long way. One day Mama had found that her current old man was cheating on her. She didn’t like that since she’d given him all kinds of presents. There was only one thing to do. She hatcheted him, and for the next couple of days he was served for dinner. They said he was pretty good. Nearly every day since then, some fancy man would come in and ask Mama if she had any of that special long pig. Mama would just laugh and say, “Not unless you’re offerin’ your services, honey.” I sat down at one of the few vacant tables. Mama knew what I wanted, and soon a large platter was put down in front of me. There were enough ribs on it to make up half a pig, along with homefries, greens, rice and beans, and a lot of cornbread. The sauce on the ribs was a combination of sweet and hot, and no one had ever figured out what was in it. The hot burned your throat, but right away the sweet soothed it like honey. Mama had turned down a lot of money for the recipe, and there was nothing else like it. I washed the whole thing down with some cans of Tecate beer and felt pretty good.