On the way to Taos...
Feb. 12th, 2006 03:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeanvieveI think its been evident in times and journal entries past that I am a bit of a food snob. In my own defense, if the food is prepared with love I'll eat it even if I hate it or its badly prepared. I've nibbled the burned bits off barbecued chicken and quietly placed the still bleeding meat back on my plate and said nice things about the sauce.
But I hate American diner food. We have fallen and fallen far, my fellow countrymen, when English pub fare is tastier. Boiled meats and vegetables might be better in places than the things we find. For instance, I'm assured that today we stopped in the best of the little mom and pop diners in the sprawling megalopolis of San Luis (oldest town in Colorado). But there is a rule of thumb, which I will impart to you. Order the special. Whatever the hell it is, suck it up and order it.
In this fine dining establishment, the special of the day was either for lunch, two pieces of friend chicken, salad and fries, or for dinner three pieces of chicken, mashed potatos, vegetable and salad. Knowing this rule of thumb, I asked about the chicken. Could I get all dark meat? The waitress very kindly offered to inquire, but returned in mere moments to say they only had white meat. No dark meat pieces of chicken. I ordered the green chili burger instead. In New Mexico, after all, one cannot go too far astray ordering things with green chilies. It is in fact hard to order anything that doesn't have green chilis in it.
But my order was amended, and Jessica and I got our green chili burgers. Jim got his fried chicken lunch special, a breast and a thigh. (The irony builds.) Adam ordered the dinner special, which was a breast, thigh, and leg. Jessica's sister in law ordered the chicken tacos. Which turned out to be taco shells with fried chicken wing meat in them. Her brother ordered the fajitas, which took a while to arrive. When they did, the very finest of sliced fried chicken breast and thigh meat was arrayed out with the beans, rice, onions and green peppers. Dave's enchilada had lovely fried chicken meat diced in with the potatoes and green chili.
When they say something is a special in a small diner, it is. You order it. You don't ask questions. If you fail to obey the laws of the open road and small towns, you'll get a substandard version of the same thing anyway. So suck it up, my friends. Order the special.
But I hate American diner food. We have fallen and fallen far, my fellow countrymen, when English pub fare is tastier. Boiled meats and vegetables might be better in places than the things we find. For instance, I'm assured that today we stopped in the best of the little mom and pop diners in the sprawling megalopolis of San Luis (oldest town in Colorado). But there is a rule of thumb, which I will impart to you. Order the special. Whatever the hell it is, suck it up and order it.
In this fine dining establishment, the special of the day was either for lunch, two pieces of friend chicken, salad and fries, or for dinner three pieces of chicken, mashed potatos, vegetable and salad. Knowing this rule of thumb, I asked about the chicken. Could I get all dark meat? The waitress very kindly offered to inquire, but returned in mere moments to say they only had white meat. No dark meat pieces of chicken. I ordered the green chili burger instead. In New Mexico, after all, one cannot go too far astray ordering things with green chilies. It is in fact hard to order anything that doesn't have green chilis in it.
But my order was amended, and Jessica and I got our green chili burgers. Jim got his fried chicken lunch special, a breast and a thigh. (The irony builds.) Adam ordered the dinner special, which was a breast, thigh, and leg. Jessica's sister in law ordered the chicken tacos. Which turned out to be taco shells with fried chicken wing meat in them. Her brother ordered the fajitas, which took a while to arrive. When they did, the very finest of sliced fried chicken breast and thigh meat was arrayed out with the beans, rice, onions and green peppers. Dave's enchilada had lovely fried chicken meat diced in with the potatoes and green chili.
When they say something is a special in a small diner, it is. You order it. You don't ask questions. If you fail to obey the laws of the open road and small towns, you'll get a substandard version of the same thing anyway. So suck it up, my friends. Order the special.
