Ok. So back in Texas, I’m not big on salad. I’m more of a steak fajitas with melted butter kind of guy. It actually kind of annoys me that they give me little side salads with so many meals, it just seems wasteful.
However, when traveling, I find that I start craving the stuff. Right now I’m on a tour of ecuadorian beach towns, which has meant lots of delicious seafood, mostly fried with rice, almost like paella. This stuff is delicious.
Amazingly, though, when I showed up at Amalur restaurant in Canoa last night, there was nothing I wanted more than a house salad. Ok, so I negotiated with the waiter to get a chicken breast added to it so I’d feel like I was eating people food. Still, the raw vegetables themselves were delicious.
There’s something about salad, too, that reminds me of home. It’s probably the fact that I rarely get to eat it here, since even if it’s on the menu, it’s unclear how safe it is to eat, because you don’t know how the water is that they’re washing it with in whichever random town you happen to be in.
I remember even in Canada, where I spent month after freezing month for work several years ago, it was really difficult to get vegetables. I remember ordering chicken breast and asking for extra vegetables on the side. What did I get? Potatoes and rice. Those were my vegetables. Piled high.
This in a country where they think a hamburger’s going to kill you if you can’t use it to play hockey.
So, a salad last night, and tonight, I’m going to venture to a vegetarian restaurant. I know, I pretty much swore off of them after a vegetarian puerta cerrada debacle in Buenos Aires (had to go out and order a steak afterwards for second dinner), but I’m ready to give it a try. I had a cheeseburger for lunch, anyway.
Photo is a tiny salad, next to a delicious pulled pork sandwich, eaten in Baños, Ecuador. I ate at least six of these at the local microbrewery.