I have been in Latin America for 10 days now. And I don’t have much good news to report on the food front. Before I share the lonely gem in my culinary experience, let me explain my approach to eating abroad.
When I travel, eating alone is par for the course. Sometimes I am with friends or colleagues, but more often than not, I grab a table for one. I say this not to garner sympathy but because it’s a fact. And because I want to take full responsibility for my choices.
I prefer to eat in the hotel as little as possible so I usually venture out, usually avoiding any recommendations from the hotel staff, who are likely to steer me toward touristy fare. This means that my own picks are hit or miss. On this trip, I’m striking out.
The food I’ve eaten in Mexico, Venezuela and Colombia can, at best, be described as edible. I am not trying to play food critic; in fact, I have lowered my expectations over the course of this trip. But I have not had one truly good meal in over a week. Nothing write home about. However, there is one standout from Monterrey, Mexico that I ate last week: salsa.
I wandered into a modest restaurant a couple blocks from my hotel. It was decorated with nuns (not my usual taste), and there were a few other occupied tables. After ordering from the Spanish-only menu (my Spanish is pretty sub-par so this was a bit of a challenge), I was given a bowl of salsa and chips. The salsa looked watery, so I was dubious. Until I tasted it. It was spicy, smoky and had a good amount of lime in it. It was the smokiness that hooked me. Not overwhelming but very much the predominant flavor. Almost immediately after the salsa arrived, so did my dinner. I quickly learned that the “sabanitas” that I ordered is a dish consisting of a thin, dry peice of meat accompanied by salad, rice and refried beans. The only redeeming component of the dish was the onion and green peppers (serranos, I think) on top of the meat. They had some heat. Otherwise, it was a dud. So instead of forcing my main dish down, I turned my full attention to my salsa. It was a wise decision.
By the end of my meal, I was sweating, crying, and my lips were burning. If there had been a mirror nearby, I’m sure I could confirm that I was as red as a beet as well. I kept going until I just couldn’t take it anymore. And then I had some more. Little did I know that my first taste of the trip would not be eclipsed by any other.
I love Latin food, but I truly can’t wait to get back to the backlog of farm share veggies waitng for me at home. I understand that greens are back and leeks are in full force. Sounds delightful!