>I thought I ordered a steamy bowl of chicken drenched in a brown sauce with rice on the side. That’s what I pointed to anyways. La Cancha the place. A small tienda with a million too many things for sale in it. You walk behind the counter and you’re in a eclectic house/restaurant. Where I sat down at one of the two tables, nicely patterned table cloth from the ’70’s. With 8 men. They had the bowls that I craved. I must have looked like a flamingo because they looked at me like I just came from another contient.
I liked what they had in front of them. So I pointed and said I’d like one of those. Next thing I know there’s a bowl with red sauce, rice and you got it, intestines in front of me. Cut in inch pieces. Some with chuncks inside, some without. Deep breath. Stay calm. Another deep breath, you can do this Hailee. I already avoid noodles. Imagine intestines. One bite in and my confidence crumbled like dry bread.
So here I sit. On a table with 8 men. Staring at an entire wall of Jesus posters. In a house/restaurant. I drank my entire bottle of water. Ate the three HUGE rolls of bread they served with the ‘tines’ and slowly stirred away. Added what they’d call their chili/picante sauce, three times and the taste didn’t improve.
Nothing like an akward moment to top off everything I’ve already experienced here in Antigua. Just wanting a local/cheap meal. Got some intestines instead of chicken. Watched the men enjoy their lovely bowl of goodness while they watched me dabber around the unknown objects in mine.
Phew, stuffed! Bring on another town please!