Culture salads

I believe my fondness for salad has already been established.

Today, we listened to a recorded talk by Rabbi Alan Lew.  Rabbi Lew, who passed away a few years ago, blended Zen meditation training with his Jewish faith.  The talk pivoted around the need for "leave-taking" as the way to discover yourself.  He demonstrated this requirement in
all of the world's great religions.  He compared elements of the greatest "leaving", the Exodus, with the process of meditation.  The mix was tossed to perfection with a wit/humor dressing, and garnished with entertaining personal anecdotes.

       Link to the recording: Here

As it happened, lunch today was hummus, with a side of kimchi.  Both dishes were home-made by this Korean/Israeli couple.

Tonight, in front of Oaxaca's cathedral we will dance the Danzon, which originated in Europe, modified in Cuba, and imported to Mexico in the 19th century.  On the plaza, we will meet Alberto, a surgeon, who on Saturday nights, together with his band, plays a great homage the Beatles in the local beer garden.

Viva la ensalada.

P.S.
    Thanks to Doron, for introducing me to Rabbi Lew.

Why did the nomad smile?

Nomads, contrary to conventional  belief, are creatures of habit.  When they find a good grazing ground, they stick to it.  In the Bay Area. we were happy to repeatedly indulge our craving for greens at "Sweet Tomatoes".  However, sometimes an adventurous spirit is necessary.

Searching for food and shelter along the main street of Navojoa (a small town in Sinaloa), we knew that we had to be alert and flexible.  A green sign that read "Quick Zalads" caught our attention. A long counter, decorated with colorful and fresh-looking vegetables, dominated the small restaurant.  We paid for a "Large", and were amazed as the cashier brandished a stainless-steel bowl, the size of a kitchen sink. A server obtained a whole lettuce, and shredded it into the bowl.  The server and us then walked on opposite sides of the counter.  We, across the glass panels,  pointing at the different vegetables.  She, adding our choices to the mix.  At the end of the journey, she swiftly dressed, and tossed the full bowl.
"I can pack whatever you don't finish"  she offered.  Probably, after comparing our body size to the that of the meal.

We sat across the industrial-grade container and took the first bite.  I recognized the smile that spread across Adi's face.  It spells 'SATISFACTION.'  We consumed the entire portion without difficulty.  I think someone should open a franchise in the Bay Area.