My favorite barbecue place has a counter where you can sit and watch the guys in the kitchen tend to the pit and methodically throw plates of food together and down the line. Perhaps it's the brutal efficiency, or perhaps it's the close proximity to open flames, but it's always fascinated me. Last night I witnessed confusion. It was brutally efficient confusion in the close proximity of open flames, but it was confusion nonetheless.
I ordered a salad.
I saw my tag go up. I saw the pit crew tossing around the word insalata until one of them looked back at the pit boss and asked, "Who ordered a salad here??" (Someone DARED!) The pit boss pointed at me and the guy who asked (who was also the guy who ultimately built my salad) said, "Oh... well, he's ok."
I just really like their salad. It's big and unapologetic and is loaded with enormous whole slices of red bell pepper and unceremoniously garnished with handfuls of sweet onion. Last night it was frickin' awesome.
