On the long road back from our trip, I was reading yet more about food politics, policy and choices. There were some interesting points, and I read snippets aloud to James as he drove. By the time we were ready to break for lunch, McDonalds didn't hold much appeal for us. James picked a local diner called Kranberry's. I was a bit dubious about giving up the time, but it was soooo worth it. We really enjoyed sitting down to a real meal while we were on the road, plus the break was good for James' back, which he had pulled the day before. But the real prize was the salsa. Oh my goodness. So good.
I asked who makes it, thinking, "Could it possibly come out of a jar? Could I buy it? Maybe I could set up a weekly standing order!". Of course, they make it in-house.
I studied the rich red color. I couldn't detect any tomatoes in it. I decided it must be red chile based and asked the waitress. She thought it was tomoatoes, but agreed to go ask the cook. She came back saying it was indeed red chiles, dried ones, "like you put on pizza..." she finished, seeming puzzled by the information. She also offered me another bowl, to go. I was thrilled to accept and put it in our little cooler of Sammy food. I thought I might have to share, but it turned out to be too spicy for anyone else I dined with, so Lucky Me!
I enjoyed the extra bowl over the next two days but now that it's gone, I'm stalking about the house, smacking my lips, looking for that spark of flavor in the foods we've got. They aren't cutting it. So, I got some dried chiles from the bulk section and broke out the Rick Bayless cookbook. Wish me luck!
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