Let’s get some more Conestoga-related content in here while it’s vaguely topical. In this entry I’ll go over some of the more interesting food I ate while travelling to and attending the con.
As part of a series of vaguely questionable decisions, I took the Greyhound up from Austin to Tulsa. Around 3AM I found myself in the Dallas Greyhound station. Every seat in the building was occupied by bleary travelers and their bags. And as it happened, the food counter was still open.
The dollop of grits, its greasy butter film freshly stirred by the cafeteria lady, had a texture entirely unlike anything I had experienced. It was a sort of foamy sludge, but it cut cleanly under a plastic fork as if it were a solid. The hotdog was also a mass of contradictions. It had been the last dog on the rotisserie rack. Presumably it had spun in place against the heater rollers for at least a shift. But it was merely lukewarm and the flesh had assumed the grey complexion of a long-dead earthworm. When I bit into the meat, I was struck both by its low density (I think it would float like balsa wood) and its near complete lack of taste. The hotdog bun on the other hand was almost too hot to hold.
The grape soda did an excellent job of washing it all down, and provided me with some much needed throat moisture for the long bus ride ahead.
By the time I had a layover in Oklahoma City, I was once again hungry and decided to buy a hotdog out of the vending machine. They had one of those machines with a spinning carousel inside and plastic windows you have to slide open to retrieve your selection.
According to the label it was no mere hotdog but a sausage. It certainly tasted unusually spicy, and the cheese had a weird European twang. Unfortunately, the bus station microwave (every surface of its interior splattered with long-dried goop) heated one side of the hotdog to a scorching temperature. The cheese essentially burned through and fried the bun. Meanwhile the opposite side of the hotdog was bone cold.
Oddly, the Conestoga booklet mentioned the Appleby’s and the Arby’s within walking distance, but neglected to mention the taco cart that was closer than either of them.
Like all good taco carts it only opened after dark. Most of the selections looked the same as its Austin counterparts, but the prices were at least double what we would pay here! I ordered a torta de pescado, a spicy-fried tilapia filet on a piping hot bun.
You will notice that it came with a garnish of a radish.
Crazy! That’s just the sort of amazing thing one encounters when one travels.