I Miss Them More Than They Miss Me

Confession: I miss some of my favorite eating places in Utah as much as I miss some of my favorite people in Utah. I know that sounds shallow, but if you understood how much I love food, you'd know that was a sincere and lavish compliment to the people I love there.

Another confession: I had a secret desire to eat at all of my favorite places in the 55 hours I spent there last week. I guess I knew it wasn't practical, but still--I had hope. In a perfect world, I would have eaten my favorite dishes at the following places and then rolled on to the plane, blissfully bountifully bloated.

One of my first stops would be Cafe Trio and I would order the Garlic Chicken Pizza. And a house salad. And the Spaghetti Pomodoro. And I would draw on the paper tablecloth with my pen while I waited.

At Greek Souvlaki, I would order the Chicken Pita with white and red sauce, along with their divine lemon rice and a big Diet Dr. Pepper.

I would have made my way to Thai Siam for a lunch special with yellow curry. Or green curry. Or Massaman curry. Or all three. Because, you know, I'm only in town for a little bit.

I would only order water to drink at Tsunami, because I would need room in my tummy for the 21 Sunshine Rolls I would order. One for every month I've been gone. It's symbolic. I don't expect you to understand.

I would cleanse my palate with some Split Pea Soup from The Soup Kitchen and 24 breadsticks.

I'd make my way to Thaifoon and have some Mango Chicken and some Evil Jungle Princess.

At Morelia, I would nibble my pebble ice and wait anxiously for my Chile Verde and Bean Burrito. And I would savor the pickled beet garnish on the plate and eat yours if you don't want it.

I would sit in a vinyl booth at El Farol and order a giant platter of Bean Dip, because it's the best. And then I would order a pint of refried beans to carry on to the plane with me.

I didn't think I would miss Spaghetti Factory, but I do. I would order a Manager's Special--half meat sauce and half myzthra cheese.

How could I leave without a trip to Ab's drive thru for a Blackberry Banana shake? I couldn't. And while I'm at it, I'd order some onion rings. With fry sauce.

And then I would wonder if the fry sauce at Arctic Circle still tastes the same, so I would have to find out for myself. With a large side of fries.

I would end things on a light note and visit Yogurt Stop. I would concoct Christian's favorite and fill my cup with vanilla yogurt topped with hot fudge, cookie dough, Oreos, and Andes mints. (Srsly.) (Although, rumor has it that I'm going to have a new favorite yogurt place in town.)

If you live in Utah, will you please eat at one or all of these places? And tell them it's from me? Please, oh, please?

Gray Skies and Lunch Escapes and Fast Food Bigotry

It's cold in the house today, even though it's supposed to be the warmest day of the week. It's a glum, gray sky out there, hiding the sun and starving the dog of patches of warm carpet to lie in. I woke up this morning and looked out the window to see only branches on the trees. The leaves have all gone south for the winter. I realized yesterday that my tan lines are gone too. Faded away. It's winter skin now.

Ugh.

Ryan worked from home today, so we went to Taco Bell for lunch. The drive-thru lady recognized us. Maybe because we ate dinner there last night. And lunch on Tuesday.

She's a very efficient drive-thru worker--all business--repeating your order and asking after every pause if there will be anything else. She has a magnificent accent, very Rosie Perez, and I always try to impersonate her after we drive away with our bean burritos, soft and crunchy tacos, all fresco style.  I haven't been to every Taco Bell in the nation, but I'm still going to say this: our Taco Bell is the best Taco Bell in the nation, possibly the world. Everything is just as it should be--the meat is meaty, the beans are bean-y, the soft tortillas are soft, and the crunchy tacos are so tasty, I'd be willing to pay $1.29 for them if they asked.

I'm a little embarrassed that Rosie Perez recognized us, but not so embarrassed that I won't go there tomorrow if the mood strikes. I'm not ashamed of my Taco Bell habit. Did I mention that it's the best Taco Bell in the universe?

Ryan and I used to escape high school for lunch. We'd take our allotted lunch money (about two bucks each) and drive to McDonalds for cheeseburgers or McChicken sandwiches. One day the drive-thru lady said, "See you tomorrow!" We laughed for months.

I guess some things never change.

The best Taco Bell in the nation is also a Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant, which used to bother me immensely. I remember the first time I saw a hybrid Taco Bell/KFC. It just seemed so....unnatural. I kept imagining the kitchen stocked with packets of honey butter and fire sauce. I imagined Colonel Sanders in a sombrero and he looked pained, ridiculous, confused. I turned up my nose and kept my distance. I was a fast food bigot, I guess. As much as I loved Taco Bell and KFC, I just couldn't accept them...{hard swallow}...together.

When it came right down to it, why did I care if the cole slaw was in the same refrigerator as the pico de gallo? Why shouldn't the eleven herbs and spices that coat my favorite drumsticks hang out with the cinnamon and sugar that coat my favorite cinnamon twists? Why can't buttermilk biscuits and gorditas be friends?

You see, we don't know our own biases until we are faced with them.

Eventually, I gained maturity and perspective. It happened one day in the car when we were grabbing a bite to eat before one of Christian's games on a busy Saturday. Two people in the car wanted Taco Bell and two people wanted KFC, but we only had time to stop at one drive-thru. It was a moment of real drama. I had to put aside my fears that the gravy ladle was also the bean ladle. I had to challenge my beliefs and admit that a taco in a paper bucket is still a taco.

We ate our lunch that day, each satisfied with our respective tastes of old Kentucky and old Mexico, and I guess you could say that I only forgot to order one thing: humble pie. But then I remembered that it's McDonalds that sells those.

It's a complicated life, that's for sure, but it's a good one. I think I'll discuss it with Rosie Perez tonight at the drive-thru.