Misinterpretations make life interesting.
One of my goals in life is not to be distracted by messages from AARP – especially suggestions I should renew my membership for the next five years. Who lives that long?
Maybe me, but why risk it?
We digress already.
This morning’s intriguing AARP email teaser wasn’t about dues but rather a daybreaker salsa class. Maybe I wouldn’t have imagined a salsa recipe class if I hadn’t already been tending a pot of posole I’d started cooking the day before. It’s not that much of a stretch from posole to salsa.
Meanwhile, what does salsa have to do with sunup? Then I seemed to recall that salsa is the latest word for some sort of exercise set to music.
Sure enough, the first meaning:
“A type of Latin American dance music incorporating elements of jazz and rock.”
“A spicy tomato sauce” is the second meaning.
That’s a dictionary for you. New Yorkers are in charge. That’s my theory. If they’d eat more salsa and worry less about their exercise sessions, they’d switch the order of those definitions.
Meanwhile, which came first? The dance or the sauce? Let’s Google “salsa.”
Surprise! Google and I think alike. I am suddenly inundated with pictures of spicy tomato sauces and the names of Mexican restaurants and recipes for salsa. No dancing. Google knows where its bread is buttered. Food rules. Not music and exercise. I feel better. Thank you, Google.
But if I Google “salsa class,” then Google takes me to the musical definition of salsa, meaning it’s all about dancing to salsa – not sauce recipes. We still don’t know which came first, but a side note tells me that the music and dance first became popular in the United States in guess where?
PAUSE TO GUESS.
New York City.
Much ado about a sauce and music I never ate nor heard as a child. Now I sometimes enter “salsa” when I’m playing Spanish Wordle. We live in changing times. (Even my use of the word “enter” is proof, not that you needed proof.)
But how about that dance class? The AARP daybreaker version takes 40 minutes. Doesnt a cup of coffee sound better?
If I’m going to do anything at dawn with salsa music (not likely), I might just listen. Or play along with spoons or something. After I stir the half and half into my coffee.
Meanwhile, if you can name a dance after a sauce, why not after a main dish? I nominate posole. Remember the mashed potato? By any other name, posole is hominy stew. I like that name too.
When I launch the dance, whatever the name, I’ll be a step ahead. I’ll create an easy pattern that even I might be able to learn.
As for my posole now bubbling away, it’s a mix from Santa Fe (the New York City of New Mexico).
When I tasted it, I thought it needed something to round out the flavor. I added salsa.
Hanaba Munn Welch is a correspondent for the Times Record News who divides her time between Abilene and a farm north of Vernon. Her columns, as a tribute to the Childress Engine 501, always contain, amazingly, 501 words.