Saw a very interesting Loop on FilmLoop tonight, and it turns out it led me to a more interesting project called Heaven, Earth, Tequila, and the website of the same name.

In Weird Day Part 1 I wrote about Elton John’s crappy Christmas CD.

Oddity number two started with lunch at a Salvadoran (although the sign said “Salvadorian”) restaurant.  Never seen or eaten in one of those before, but the place looked busy and clean, and I’m an adventurous eater so I figured “what the hell” (see, there it is again) and gave it a try.

I wish I could tell you more about Salvadoran cuisine, except none of what was on the menu made much sense to me.  After I figured out the server didn’t really speak English, which was kind of cool, I pointed to a picture of what looked like a meat sampler, and that’s what I got – a plate with a pounded chicken breast grilled on a flat-top, a giant piece of very tender skirt steak, and a chorizo sausage (more on that later), accompanied by lime, rice, chopped tomato and fried plantains.  Out of this world!

Many of the patrons were drinking a cold drink that looked like iced coffee to me.  It was obviously a local favorite, so I thought I’d try it.  Tasted like milk, chocolate, cinnamon, nutmeg and strangely – lime.  There was no chance of getting a description other than the name, which to me sounded like “orjada”.  Turns out the drink is called “horchata”, and sure enough, its an indigenous Salvadoran drink, as I learned here at the Center for International Rehabilitation Research Information and Exchange website (hey, lets see YOU find material on horchata!):

Cool drinks (frescos) made out of tropical fruits have always been very popular. One drink representative of El Salvador is horchata, made out of roasted rice flour and sweet spices. The powdered rice is mixed either with milk or water. It has a very special flavor that Salvadorans love because they are raised on it.

Never would have guessed this was a rice drink (seemed like it was too thin to be dairy), and it was pretty good – many flavors (“lots of notes”, Dave).  I wouldn’t go out of my way to find it, but when in El Salvador, do as the Salvadorans do.  There’s a Wikipedia reference here.  (Sidebar - in the Wiki version history, there was a little flame/edit war about someone who posted a page on horchada and promoted a particular brand.  I’ll just say that some folks have a LOT of free time on their hands).

It was strangely nice to be in a place where I didn’t know the food, didn’t know the patrons, and was a minority.  It almost felt like it does when I travel to Costa Rica, where I know I’m a guest, and I know I’m going to have new experiences.  Sort of like a very small trip to El Salvador, courtesy of the palate.  Very nice, and it led to Weird Day Part 3 – “Is That Goat?”…

In Weird Day Part 2 I wrote about my awesome lunch at a Salvadoran restaurant.  The chorizo was the shining star of that lunch, and despite the language barrier with my server, I thought I’d try ask if was made on premises, or get the name of the vendor on the odd chance I might find it somewhere.  The sausage was different than other chorizo I’ve had - it was not as dense, wasn’t at all spicy, and had a sort of smoked or barbecued flavor.

The server didn’t get it, so I asked another staffer, and I wish you could have seen the conversation… it was pretty funny.  Lots of blank looks on both sides of the equation, but after a few of those, we had a breakthrough.  Gestures were flying and words were rolling, only two of which I really caught and understood - "Argentina" and "Andrews".  Odd combination, eh?  I wondered if that’s what I really heard, but some of the gesturing seemed to be directions to go south at the intersection adjacent to the restaurant, and the neighborhood didn’t look bad, so off I went sightseeing and looking for the magical chorizo.  “What the hell”…

I drove for about a mile before I started laughing at myself, tooling around looking for what-I-don’t-know, so I turn around, and when I get almost all the way back to the restaurant, it appeared before me - Andrews Meat and Fish Market.  Hey - Andrews… that’s part of the mystery word equation!

On entering, I knew this place was the real deal. English was immediately running a distant second to Spanish in sights and sounds, and the smells were deliciously Latin.  On the outside, Andrews doesn’t look like much of a market -  its the size of a good sized convenience store with a rundown exterior and parking lot, but its a very cool little bodega, vending a few products I recognized, like produce, big bags of rice and flour and beans, bread - and all sorts of products I didn’t.  As wandered my way around the place I turned a corner and saw a small fish counter with all sorts of goodies, an big bin of salted/cerviche snapper, and a long meat case with all sorts of exotic (to me) cuts in it.

I perused the massive case for the chorizo, but no luck. I asked the person behind the counter, they got someone else to help me, and then there they were in the refrigerated case  – chorizo sausages, a couple of different types and brands, including one from - you guessed it - Argentina!  Andrews… Argentina… Argentinian chorizo at Andrews Market… now it all made sense!

What a win… only a short confused drive and a few minutes to find a product I’d already tasted and likes, and expect to share with friends.  But as I gathered up three packages of the sausage, something else caught my eye.  "Is that goat?" I asked, thinking how funny it sounded coming out of my mouth.  Sure was… had a great chat with the owner of the store, who said curry or roasted were the two top methods his customers talked about. 

In the case he had maybe 20 full frozen goat legs, and right beside them, another bunch of legs sawn in half, lengthwise.  I bought one half-leg, which the butcher then happily band-sawed into a roast, and the rest into chunks.  Pat and  I are going to try it - he has some recipes and I found some online, so we’re not short on ideas.  And the bonus is the three pounds only cost about eleven bucks, so I figure if we don’t like it, we’re not really that much worse for wear.

Got Goat?