Saturday, January 13, 2007


One final lesson, and it's tasty . . .

It's not very often that Our Man in LA does a Saturday post for the old blog, but then again 1) it's not very often that he gets a three-day weekend; and 2) it's not very often that he returns from a good, long vacation to impart the lessons learned from time spent all over this great land of ours.

Which brings me to something very, very important. And it's this:


That's right. Cactus. In case you wondered how cowpokes and Native Americans fed themselves in the old west, there you have it.

It's not bad, either. Kind of like asparagus with a slightly sour aftertaste. Certainly not anything to be afraid of, or to get squinty about - like the Man with No Name.

I mean, seriously, that guy could use some cactus.

Our first night in Sedona, Steph and I headed out to the Cowboy Club, one of the restaurants on the tourist-friendly strip. Pretty good bar and grille food, all things considered, and a decent selection of Arizona microbrews.

Now, at the Cowboy Club, they have the usual pub grub, but also a decent selection of local fare. Namely, buffalo steaks and burgers, some items derived from ostrich, a plate of snake skewers (rattlesnake and the like), and, of course, cactus.

I got the cactus mostly because Our Woman in LA did not like the idea of something that slithers being on our table. Even if it is dead and deep-fried. Ahh, something for the next visit.

Do I wish the cactus hadn't been deep-fried? Sure, then I could have gotten a better sense of the taste without removing battery layer upon battery layer. On the other hand, I'm no chef. Perhaps grilled cactus doesn't taste right. And perhaps a sauteed cactus has to be prepared with a certain kind of red sand.

Doesn't matter, really. I liked it. I'd do it again. But I have to save room. For the rattler.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

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