I am the furthest thing from a "foodie" that you will ever meet (In fact, even using the word "foodie" makes me want to punch myself).
However, after this summer I have determined that I may need a balance when it comes to my food intake on vacation.
On the one hand, I go on bike trips with my brother (whom I will call "Lenny" - to protect the innocent). Our bike trip rules are these...... get up in the morning and eat a big breakfast..... ride all day and do whatever you do..... then eat a big supper...... and that is it.
This time honoured tradition has worked for 6 years now and resulted in me losing 10 pounds on every trip and only feeling dizzy and hallucinating once in while. We budget $16 for food for the entire week. :)
The issue that I have with the Lenny menu is that he is addicted to Gas Station Hot Dogs. Like the kind that are so bright pink inside that they seem radioactive and can be seen from 100 miles away.
Maybe Lenny is not addicted to these things, but it has become a midnight tradition on our trips. One that I have not been brave enough to join him in. In fact, one night he ate a hot dog that had been on the rolling warmer so long that I am sure it had made more rotations than the earth has in the entire span of history. "Its not bad if you put enough ketchup on it" Lenny was heard to say - just before the cramps set in!
On the other hand, I go on family vacations where the goal seems to be "Find the weirdest, most expensive place we can and see if we can make that 'Where have you taken me?' look cross Dad's face". They succeeded this year in Canmore, Alberta.
We went to what can only be described as a "Hippy/hipster/granola/weirdo lounge" (Well, maybe I am the only one to describe it that way - but that is all I got!). It was like nothing I had ever seen before!!! PEOPLE WERE LAYING ON COUCHES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RESTAURANT!!!! COUCHES!!!! It looked like the living room at a college dorm.
Then I looked at the menu and thought that I had been transported to another country. The words were English words (I think) but they made no sense at all! The only thing I understood was the word "Chicken", so I ordered that.
When it came, to my surprise, I had a sandwich that I could have eaten in one bite...... and a side order of popcorn! POPCORN!!!! SEA SALT POPCORN!!!! WHAT???????? I love popcorn! In fact, I probably eat my body weight in popcorn every year...... BUT NOT WITH MY CHICKEN WHATEVER IT IS SANDWICH!!!!
The girls tried to reassure me that this was great because the place was locally owned (not a big faceless corporation) and that they source all the food from local farmers. In fact, I think they were told that the chicken I was eating was named "Walter". I think they were even been offered a picture of him so that I could feel at one with my meal.
POPCORN!!!!
In all fairness it was not the worst meal I have ever had...... and I really did not want to retire before I was 80 years old anyway so the bill did not hurt that much. Ok - it actually hurt A LOT!!!!! POPCORN!!!!! Apparently, sea salt is super expensive.
So - there you go. As I said, I don't care about food. Eating is just a necessity most of the time. I never even think about it.
However, I now have at least one clear opinion about food....... I need an option that is somewhere between Gas Station Hot Dogs and Hippies.
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