The Sad Salisbury Steak Story

Note: This is a guest entry from Nina studying abroad in London, England.

There's something to say about foods named after cities. The Hamburger of Germany, the Noodles of Shanghai, and of course the classic Philly Cheesesteak. I'd mention the "French" Fry, but first, that's not a city, and second, it's called a chip in England anyway.

Well, my dear friendly food-a-holics, I am going to reveal the untold story of the Salisbury Steak. On an organized student trip to Stone Henge, I was happily awaiting my day filled with eerie tales of stones and Druids.

Then...yes, THEN, they gave me a flyer announcing that only half the day was to acquaint with my new pet rocks and the rest was enjoying Salisbury, England... home of the a forenamed steak! My A4 sized sheet of paper boasted about the glories I would find in the mystery meat dish.

Leslie, from LA, questioned "What...what IS a Salisbury steak?" Obviously, there was shock and horror from the Midwesterners. Wisconsin-Nick drew an imaginary matrix in the air diagramming the hamburger, beef steak, and meatloaf. A little grossed out, I was still kind of excited to try a local dish that wasn't baked beans on toast (and that my friend is for a WHOLE separate flog entry).

We arrived in this small little town and I swear to you, we must have teleported to Sandwich in Kent England, because that's all we could find to eat! The steak was no where to be found. I'm left disgusted with the weak effort they put in to draw tourists. I can confidently declare this is the worst small town with a lame claim to fame ...ever. If you're in England, skip the trip to Salisbury, unless you are looking for the 4th Earl of Sandwich.