Elaine's salad. (My cole-slaw in upper right back ground.)"Small town America," I told Elaine. We had been planning our drive from Toronto to Phoenix for weeks. Looking forward to a road trip, I explained to Elaine that our theme would be about small towns. We'd stop and eat or take a break in mostly small towns across the country.
After driving straight from Toronto to Illinois, we decided it was time for some lunch. I threw open the GPS and called a "mom and pop" joint. The two of us were both craving a huge, fresh salad. The kind gentleman assured me that they had all types of salad and a variety of foods. Upon arrival, we were both taken aback when asked "smoking or non?" I think the look on my face won us the award of as-far-away-from-smoking-as-possible. We opened our sticky menus and began looking at the variety. "Shucks, we're too early for the senior special...that doesn't start for a few hours," I said. Looking at the menu, I found it quite amusing that this particular restaruant offered greek, italian, mexican and traditional american fare. Fascinating. I countined to glance through the multi-page menu through sips of water in a dirty, cloudy cup. Once our selections were made, our waitress approached the table. "You have got to be kidding me," I thought, "A stereotypical 'madge." Madge looked as if she was in her mid 40's, yet the cigarettes had added about ten years to her thin face. Her stringy ponytail hung stiffly at the nape of her neck. Looking down at me, her blue eyeshadow stood out strongly. I knew right away that "Madge" was popular in 'her time.' But now, she visits the local bar on her nights off where she spends her tip money on cheap beer and some guy named, 'bub' gives her attention. I ordered the "chef's special salad." What came next was all the validation I needed that we had officially chosen a 'mom and pop' joint. Madge stared down at me over her notepad and said, "Ya know that salad don't have no meat in it." I assured her that would be fine. My choices of soup to accompany my meatless salad would be chicken noodle or a slit pea with beef broth. "Just fruit instead," I suggested. The look on Madge's face would suggest that I had just broke wind. "We got cole-slaw," she offered. I accepted the cole-slaw and it was quickly brought to me in a filmy, clear plastic ice cream dish. Yum, salad before my salad.
After driving straight from Toronto to Illinois, we decided it was time for some lunch. I threw open the GPS and called a "mom and pop" joint. The two of us were both craving a huge, fresh salad. The kind gentleman assured me that they had all types of salad and a variety of foods. Upon arrival, we were both taken aback when asked "smoking or non?" I think the look on my face won us the award of as-far-away-from-smoking-as-possible. We opened our sticky menus and began looking at the variety. "Shucks, we're too early for the senior special...that doesn't start for a few hours," I said. Looking at the menu, I found it quite amusing that this particular restaruant offered greek, italian, mexican and traditional american fare. Fascinating. I countined to glance through the multi-page menu through sips of water in a dirty, cloudy cup. Once our selections were made, our waitress approached the table. "You have got to be kidding me," I thought, "A stereotypical 'madge." Madge looked as if she was in her mid 40's, yet the cigarettes had added about ten years to her thin face. Her stringy ponytail hung stiffly at the nape of her neck. Looking down at me, her blue eyeshadow stood out strongly. I knew right away that "Madge" was popular in 'her time.' But now, she visits the local bar on her nights off where she spends her tip money on cheap beer and some guy named, 'bub' gives her attention. I ordered the "chef's special salad." What came next was all the validation I needed that we had officially chosen a 'mom and pop' joint. Madge stared down at me over her notepad and said, "Ya know that salad don't have no meat in it." I assured her that would be fine. My choices of soup to accompany my meatless salad would be chicken noodle or a slit pea with beef broth. "Just fruit instead," I suggested. The look on Madge's face would suggest that I had just broke wind. "We got cole-slaw," she offered. I accepted the cole-slaw and it was quickly brought to me in a filmy, clear plastic ice cream dish. Yum, salad before my salad.
Out came our salads and we instantly began dissecting them. Elaine's chicken salad seemed to be created with processed chicken strips, cheap tortilla chips and Costco cheese shreds. Oh yes, and a few shreds of lettuce. My chefs special salad was colorful enough, but flavorless. I reminded Madge that my salad was missing the hard boiled egg. She quickly brought out a hard boiled egg which had been pre-sliced in half for me. The gray yoke stared up at me as if apologizing. We quietly crunched on our bagged lettuce in a bowl and watched as smoke swirled in the air. As each person walked in, he was greeted on a first name basis. It was as if everyone was waiting for him to get there. Once we paid and stepped outside, I realized how great the fresh air felt. We jumped back on the freeway eating trail mix and oreos out of the back seat.
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