Eating My Way Across America

Posted: March 11, 2009 by Cindia G. Leonard in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

This week is spring break at Syracuse University and across the country several other schools are on break. Many folks take this opportunity to go on a little vacation. After all the wintry weather in Syracuse and lake effect snows I had to go on vacation. The boyfriend and I decided that we were going to take a trip down to North Carolina.

Now my boyfriend (his name is Zach) is orginally from NC. He’s never lived in any other state. I, on the other hand, am a military brat. NC is not my homestate and I really don’t have a hometown either but after living in Winston-Salem for around 5 years it’s the closest I’ve got. All my friends live there and I went to undergrad there. I just have strong feelings for the little town.

Anyways the trip was half an excuse to get the hell out of the cold and the other half to visit family and friends we’ve been missing like crazy. Now listen, again I don’t want to offend, but Syracuse is a miserable town. I know some of my classmates who are from Syracuse and actually like it there, even love it, but Zach and I can’t stand it. Part of that reason is the food.


A plate of awesome served at Salsa's

NC cuisine is pretty fucking amazing. In Winston, there is a mis-mash of immigrants from around the world that have decided to settle and share their delicious food. Asheville, where my boyfriend went to college, is just mind blowing. The food is locally grown, organic, cheap, and just delicious. Syracuse doesn’t offer that kind of variety. There is barely any Hispanic/Mexican food in Syracuse that is any good. Sad.

So I’m going on this vacation and the only thing I can think about is all the delicious, fatty food I’m going to eat. Completely disregarding any notion I had about starving myself/excersing/going on a diet. NC is the home of bar-b-que, Krispy Kreme, and really good home-style cooking. I don’t stand a chance.

Vacation eating is really a problem. You’re on vacation with your friends, relaxing, and trying not to think about your nagging professors and your faced with a plate of fucking awesome, dripping in sauce. I’m not going to lie, I’m in Asheville right now and I’ve already rocked an Asian buffet, a Carribean place called Salsa’s, and a home-style cafeteria eatery. I couldn’t say no.

The truth is, if you go on vacation and you try to stick to some diet you’ve set up for yourself you’re probably going to miss out. I’m not prepared to have a shitty spring break because I’m watching what I eat. I know I have stretch marks, I know my clothes are too tight, but all that stuff will still be there when I get back. So I’m going to live it up and leave the fight for another day.

– Cindia Gonzalez

  1. HMo says:

    So, now you’ve reminded me that I’ve been craving a Cookout milkshake for like three weeks. Not exactly exciting regional cuisine, but I just can’t find a good milkshake up here and that makes me very very sad.

    And don’t forget to take in your fried corn in the glorious south.

  2. cindiagonzalez says:

    All I’m gonna say about Cookout is that it is exciting regional cuisine. There aren’t even any Sonics up here. Where am I supposed to get my late night, post drinking, all-grease meal? Denny’s?

    You’ve got to be kidding me.

    We went to Cookout twice while we were back. I had a HUGE sweet tea (the only liquid courage I need) and hushpuppies. Delicious, exceptional, life changing. And the milkshakes are like a little orgasm in a styrofoam cup.

  3. Katie P. says:

    This article is awesome!

  4. Bernadette says:

    I guess I can never really embrace NC-style food because I’m from Louisiana. Which will burn out any other local cuisine’s flavor profile with one bite of my g-ma’s gumbo.

  5. Katie says:

    YUM. Although I get a little tired of people constantly ragging on Syracuse. Just because you’re miserable there doesn’t mean it’s a miserable place. I think people should try to make the best of it and quit whining. Those are just my two cents.

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