Recently I traveled to a seaport roughly an hour outside of San Salvador, and I had the chance to--once again--manger des fruits de mer. This ceviche was comprised of raw muscles--the kind that wiggle in the bowl because they're still alive! Fresh shrimp, baring a feint taste of volcanic sandy beaches and the brine tumultuous sea foam. A student warned me against the ceviche because of the red tide--her fault was hubris which ultimately will have affected her life more negatively than mine. I'm the one who dared to eat something beyond her comprehension. The reward? A satisfied curiosity, a good story to tell.
