Feasting on Asphalt II

Yesterday was Daddy's birthday, and at dinner we lived it up with a salad. If that doesn't sound like indulgence to you, then let me tell you about this so-called salad. Last week when we were in Provo, we went to a yummy restaurant called Cafe Rio. Wendy told us to get the Pork Barbacoa Salad, something I wouldn't have chosen on my own, but that was only because I didn't know what I was missing.


The salad starts with a handmade flour tortilla that's fairly thin and as big as your arm. It's covered with Romaine lettuce and a good helping of rice and black beans. Then there's the pork! It's a nice, sweet meat (thanks, Babe) that melts in your mouth. Their pork is probably cooked on a low heat for hours to get to that tender perfection. Add to that the house dressing - a tomatillo-lime delight, some cojita cheese, guacamole, pico de gallo, and tortilla strips, and you've got yourself a 12,000 calorie salad. It reminds me of a line from my favorite Budweiser Real Men of Genius radio ad: Mr. Giant Taco Salad Inventor. Is it healthy? "Of course it is. It's a salad, isn't it?"

Then Dad opened presents. I was really excited about giving Dad his gifts, because I think he's pretty hard to shop for. He's the guy that doesn't seem to need or want anything. We gave him Microsoft Flight Simulator X with a flight simulator yoke. He also got Feasting on Asphalt on DVD.

Dad used to have fun flying planes and riding his motorcycle all around the country, but I guess now he's just doing it vicariously. I haven't heard him laugh so hard in a long time as he did when we watched Feasting on Asphalt last night. I haven't enjoyed a TV show so much myself in quite awhile. Alton Brown and the gang ride cross-country (sort of) on their motorcycles hitting small diners and other off-the-beaten-path establishments. Actually, that's how my dad met my mom. He and his family rode from Lubbock up to southern Colorado on their motorcycles. They stopped in a little touristy town called Silverton, where Mom worked as a waitress in a restaurant called the Bent Elbow, where they stopped to eat. The rest is history, or that's the version I've been told.

In the course of the show, Alton even tries pickled pigs feet. That makes me think of my mom, who had a craving for those awful things when she was pregnant, and will still eat them to this day. I know, it sounds like a horrible joke, but it is true!

Everyone was too full from the salad to eat birthday cake, so we ate it today instead. No candles on top, just vanilla ice cream on the side. No need to mar that yummy frosting with candle wax. I told Dad I'd just put 54 pecans in his German Chocolate Cake instead. Happy birthday, Daddy!


(Here are the birthday party pics. I found the salad recipe here. I made a couple of changes to the salad dressing recipe. I didn't use all the lime juice it called for, only used 1 envelope of Fiesta Ranch salad dressing mix, and I added about a half cup of mayonnaise. Thank you, Rosa's, for supplying the tortillas, pico de gallo, and guacamole.)

Feasting on Asphalt I