Things I Will Miss About Texas, Part 1: Salsa

I approach each ending with an absolute finality, and with that in mind, I'm probably not going to be coming back to Texas anytime soon. After dealing with several stereotypical Texans in college, I was seriously pissed off when I found out that I was moving to the Lone Star state. Once I got here, though, I realized... that it seriously blew. But once I moved to San Antonio, it was actually pretty cool. Over the past two years I've managed to visit most of Texas' larger cities, and I realize that each of them have something distinct to offer. Also, each of the big five (Dallas, Austin, Houston, El Paso, and San Antonio) are amongst the biggest cities in the nation, thus guaranteeing that there will be someone here who is selling what you're looking to buy. Anyway, here we go:

Salsa. Despite the literal translation being "sauce," it's certainly more than that to anyone who eats Mexican food. To me, it's a goddamn food group. How many meal have consisted largely of me just eating chips and salsa? TOO MANY. One time I even drank a container of salsa without even bothering with the chips. What's the big deal? It's only vegetables. Think of it as a salad that was mixed a little too far.

Growing up in the Midwest, I grew up on Pace and other generic salsas, which - unbeknownst to me at the time - were pretty crappy. Not something you looked forward to eating. The HEBs and Central Markets have AISLES devoted to salsas (okay, at least a significant portion of an aisle), and a majority of the selection is grown in the great state of Texas. I've spent the last three months choosing jar of salsa, exploring what each has to offer. Recently I've had my ass kicked by the Smoke and Flames Stagecoach Salsa, and my absolute favorite (though now discontinued) came from a hotel in Marathon, but the one closest to my heart is Julio's, a tortilla factory that is prominent in San Angelo, and yes, Del Rio.

 I don't really care for the chips, but the salsa is savory enough to keep me coming back (though nostalgia might play into it, too).

The point being, in many other states, salsa isn't something that has its own aisle in the grocery store, and that's a shame, because there are myriad ways to prepare the simple dish, and the preference for an individual can be of great contention. No matter what the selection, salsa variety is something I will miss once I leave Texas.