I feel used and betrayed by one of most central institutions in my life. No, not the Mormon Church (though I do resent both the early & late meeting times). Another institution that, like the LDS Church, is meant to be the same everywhere. Today I got hosed by McDonalds. McScrewed if you will. We are on vacation in Puerto Rico and Dave said he'd go get me my favorite breakfast, an egg McMuffin. I love egg McMuffins. I practically have a testimony of them. I have seriously considered moving to Hong Kong because there, they serve them all day long. I remember my first egg McMuffin. It was the early 70s and my sister and I must have seen an ad on tv announcing the arrival of this culinary genius. So my mom took us to McDonalds in Tarzana, CA the very first Saturday they were served. And I've never looked back. Their magical blend of Canadian Bacon, English muffin and American cheese is a trifecta of all that is right with the English speaking world. While in the early morning sickness stage of pregnancy I learned that the rich protein of egg meat and cheese eaten early enough in the day would stave off puking. Last week, 4 of us entered a McDonalds at 10:29, all hankering for a McMuffin and there were only 3 left. These are some of my dearest sisters in the world, and still, I could not be a good sport and take a sausage bisquit or some other pale substitute.
And then today, Dave gives me this, THING. The meat was the scary luncheon variety that is ribboned with fat and has a rainbow sheen. And, hello, English muffin? Try buns as big as J.Lo's. I couldn't even finish it.
On the bright side, we are in a magical place called Rincon. It's on the far west of the island and is known for it's gorgeous beaches and the good surfing.(today a surfer informed us her favorite waves were usually at "Hobo Beach.") Having grown up around LA, Rincon feels a lot like the Canyons that shoot off the Pacific Coast Highway. It is a weird blend of farmers and surfers and hippies. Unlike the other parts of P.R. I've seen (admittedly, not much) there doesn't feel like a great divide between the have and have nots. I looked this up in the Lonely Planet and they agree.
Too bad I had another dining misadventure. We picked a total locals only place as we had really good luck in Old San Juan with the lunch counters, etc. I don't know what made me queasier, that "Evelyn" as she introduced herself to us, pulled the meat out of tupperware that had clearly been sitting outside in the sun all day, or that she pet the neighborhood stray dog while grilling said meat, or that she used so much raw garlic that it scorched my nostrils, or that she had on a mesh tank top with moles, for real, poking out of some of the holes in the fabric. Mole holes. But being the people pleaser I am, I ate that horrid khabab and said I liked it. Now that I think about it, I ate more of my vile dinner than I did my McBreakfast. Happily, we found another little place that sold amazing fruity drinks and yummy rice and beans. Alls well that ends well.
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1 comment:
Mole holes? "you slay me!"
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