When Harry met Salad
There was a storm system rolling through the area these past few days. It was nothing major, but I didn’t feel like spending multiple days in them desert mud without the sun to recharge my batteries, so I returned to the Lazy Lizard Hostel where I at least had a lobby to hang out in and plug in the laptop for work.
I am not usually the most social person, but as I was hanging around the communal lobby area that first evening, a plate with cherry pie and ice cream was slid in front of me by the native chef at the Hostel, Harry. Harry is not an employee but a long term tenant and he too spends much of his days in this communal area. He could easily be that guy that first impressions dictates you run away as quickly as possible; Harry is missing one eye and the open socket stares back at you with laser like intensity, but get past that appearance and you have met one of the coolest guys in town. The following night Harry slid a huge plate of his home made salad between myself and my laptop. I can only take so much generosity before I must retaliate with equal force, so I offered to purchase the next day’s dinner.
That next afternoon after a quick trip to the grocery store, we returned with a few stabs of steak and an assortment of veggies and got to work. It was an hour of preparing… chopping garlic, thyme, ginger, green beans, onions, and marinating the meat. I tried my best to help where I could, but Harry took the ball and ran with it. I manned the grill for the 10 minutes it took to cook the steaks, but with his own touch. Harry first placed six thick-cut onion disks straight on the grill and told me to place the steaks directly on top of these onions. Five minutes later thee meat were flipped. Four minutes after that I was placing it all on a platter and we sat down for what would become the best meal I have ever eaten in my entire life!
My plate was overflowing with this massive chunk of meat topped with french cut green beans covered in butter and roasted garlic. Two helpings of broccoli straddled a single half of a raw red pepper. The first bite almost caused unconsciousness out of pure bliss. Each additional bite got only better and better and the next thing I know every scrap of food had disappeared from my plate. I regret I did not get a photo of this meal, but the hour long build up and the smells made me lose my mind and focus only on shoveling it down my throat and nothing else.
What I realized that evening was that this would not have happened if I had stayed at a Holiday Inn, or a Motel. This wouldn’t have happened if I was camping in the desert, or at a National Park. This type of thing only happens in those rare situations where you are sharing your life in a communal area with others around and you are willing to open yourself up to those people. What a way to live…
