I think I’m so used to El Hub and my family not even blinking an eye anymore when I whip out my camera to take pictures of food that I forget it’s kind of weird.
Last Sunday I was craving Puerto Rican food, so we drove down to Sol Food in San Rafael, one of my favorite restaurants when I want something upbeat, tasty and lively.
When we go, we usually eat outside on their back patio, but it was packed that day, so we grabbed a couple spots on their small counter pressed up against a wall.
The walls are painted bright colors and have lots of neat textures, like old doors, fastened to them.
I’d never noticed the doors hanging on the walls before because I’m usually entranced by the old pictures, but this time I took a ton of pics with my camera of the walls and, of course, my food.
I was clicking away, oblivious of time, when I noticed a woman sitting next to us at the counter looking at me funny. El Hub said, “She does this all the time,” referring to me and my picture taking. “ALL THE TIME.”
The lady, Dottie, was very nice. “That’s a little weird,” she said.
“Yeah, it is!” I agreed. “I always take pictures of my food. It’s kind of my thing.”
Dottie was a blast. Hey, Dottie! Even though I’m pretty sure she isn’t reading this, whatev.
She said she was 65 years old, but she didn’t look anywhere near that. Of course I had to ask her for her secret. She said, “healthy living, and an ‘I don’t give a sh*t attitude.'”
I ordered large quantities of fried food because my PMS was/is in overdrive. I had a niño pobre — breaded fried prawns on toasted french bread with lettuce, tomato and cilantro lime mayo — and mariquitas, which are sliced, fried green plantains. And an orange mango iced tea.
Yeah, my tummy just rumbled.