I have been daydreaming about steak for a while. ...and I've also been thinking about how thankful I am that I'm not a Hindu. I spent my lunch time today plotting where to get the best piece of steak on which I could get my palette...I visited urbanspoon.com (great website for finding super awesome food...pretty much anywhere) and consulted locals for their input. In the end? ...I ended up following my brain (rather than following the advice that I had laboriously sought) to a place I had been before. Not somewhere special, not somewhere unique, but someplace where I had already picked out my order...I knew exactly what I would be eating and *just* what it would taste like. I went to the Texas Roadhouse. I ate so much food that I seriously thought that my body was going to reject all of the cow and potatoes I had just eaten.
I apologize, dear reader, for talking so long about steak...it reminds me of a lesson I learned while visiting South America...a lesson that I will never forget, and that I am going to share with you because I feel as though it is relevant in my adventure here. ...and I refuse to feel guilty one bit about going to a franchise (this time)...
For those who do not know (and how could you not, I talk about it ALL of the time...STILL!) I spent a month in South America in about 2007. I spent the first week regretting my decision and constantly wondering why I had chosen to embark on such an endeavor. ...I lived with a family who only spoke Spanish (I do speak a little Spanish, which is why I was placed in such a family) and I ended up being sick for about the first half of my adventure. I kept searching for local foods that I knew that I would just fall in love with...they had to be out there somewhere!
It wasn't until my second to last day with my familia that I had this epiphany. We were at a grocery store similar to Kroger or Hy-Vee (depending on your area and availability) and we were standing in line, and I saw a sea of brown faces with brown eyes and black hair. I felt out of place, though not uncomfortable. ...I was looking at all of the people around, studying them all and I noticed a man next to me. He looked as though he was of European decent (they were all very tall compared to the native peoples) and I looked into his shopping cart. I noticed that he had some rather unusual items for the part of the world that we were in. ...and then I realized...that no matter where you are in the country or in the world, you can always find things and ways that can bring you home. Whether it's mani y mermelada (peanut butter and jelly)...or even your favorite blanket. More than food, home is what makes you comfortable. It is a place where you feel safe and a place where you belong, and it can be found many places, even when one feels lost or unsure.
Shortly after having this revelation, I'm fairly certain that I went crazy. ...I had thought about staying in Ecuador and just not returning, because I had fallen in love with the country. Alas, I returned. ...but I took care to keep that lesson with me.
I guess what I'm saying is that this little adventure in steak has reminded me of one of my favorite things about growing up...learning things that I'm sure you can be told, but it takes until that "Aha!" moment for things to make sense.
Maybe it's just the food coma talking, and maybe this is truly a heartwarming experience...but I feel happy. ...I also feel less like my food is going to come back up. And on that note, I think that I am going to savor this moment...and put on a good movie...and plot my next adventure out into this city...
ps - any suggestions for places to go or things to see would be awesome.
