Here, in Scottsdale, AZ, cacti coat the landscape and the temperature doesn’t drop below 25. Ever.
Everyone’s tanned, fit, and, at least from my experience, refreshingly friendly. Maybe I’ve just been spending too much time in Queen Street boutiques where the elevator stare is a mandatory prerequisite before even considering offering service, but it’s awful nice for the department-store-changeroom-lady to offer to zip up your dress (even if that includes advising.. or demanding you suck in). That said, it’d be easy to be healthy, happy, and heavily tanned living in a place like this.
And because of that, after yoga, we went for dinner at True Food Kitchen, an organic haunt in the valet-parking-preferred Scottsdale Quarter. I also stole their menu for my own kitchen. While my ma, second cousin and I nibbled our rabbit food, grandma and Uncle Russ ate cheeseburgers in a restaurant located in the same venue as a rodeo. Now, ain’t that America.
Ginger-agave nectar-soda water lemonade
Spring greens-edamame-toasted sesame seed-avocado-ginger-ahi tuna salad
shrimp dumplings-shittake mushrooms-broccoli
So this isn’t exactly what I thought of America when I made my stopover at Atlanta, the land of deep-fried hot dogs and hair weaves. I’m guessing Scottsdale, in all its retirement and Canadians living here on foreclosure, is an anomale amongst the trans-fatty nation. More exploring to come this week…