As people who barely need any reason for a fiesta big or small MR.D summoned us to happy hour at Salsa ala Salsa for Cinco de Mayo. Because of my newfound fanaticism for kickboxing we luckily pushed the time back til I was finished with the box kicking (hardest workout yet) and then I skipped down Nicollet to meet them. I was on the trail of some kind of cute boy with odd tattoos on his legs. He was a faster walker than I am and also knew of a short cut through a couple empty parking lots near the recently closed down meat market, which I had previously thought were entirely closed off by fencing. Now I know better. I still am kind of sad about the meat market closing though. I don’t eat meet and never shopped there so I suppose can be party blamed for its demise, but it reminded me of my childhood.

My parents had a favorite market in a small town in north eastern North Dakota that they would always visit if we were in town. Evidently they made the best “real” hotdogs. These were nothing like the limp flavorless objects that my friends mom’s would serve cut up with mac and cheese. These had form, color and flavor and were perfect for spearing with a freshly cut boxelder tree stick to roast over a blazing fire in the back yard. The market in my neighborhood had the specials up each week in neon colors written on butcher paper. It also had big windows in the store front through which you could see a couple of big open coolers (presumably for picking out your frozen meat and sausage products) and a counter and windowed cooler that stretches the length of the store. If I was a meat eater, I would have shopped there.

Personally I like to know where my food comes from and the closer that I can get to its source the better. This is partially why I am a vegetarian as well. I’ve put in my time picking the stray hairs off of a chunk of dear carcass on the kitchen table. I think too many people fool themselves into not thinking about what they are actually consuming. These days there is no need to fool yourself though, the packaging and the many steps food takes before getting to you is quite an intense and lengthy process.

Anyway. The golden margaritas at Salsa ala Salsa were half price in honor of Cinco de Mayo and that made me quite happy. As did the consumption of the chimichanga after an intensive kickboxing session. Afterwards I walked home, stretched for a bit, and then haphazardly threw assembled a pile of dirty clothes to take home tonight. That’s right. I’m 25, but I still take advantage of the free laundry at home.