Ensalada Mista Something in Translation. One of the highlights of motorcycle touring is the back roads. On a bike, off the motorway, you have no choice but to experience the land you ride through; from its winds in serious need of a strait-jacket (seriously. A bird got blown into my ribs today through no fault of its own. I just hope it's okay and not too traumatised). You smell everything: plants, flowers, farms... Factories. And you end up having lunch in some backwater cucina where non hablo espanol and they non hablo englese. I thought I'd be safe with an ensalada mista. I can pretty much figure out a written menu, thanks to 3 years of Latin (although modern Europe isn't so heavy on the honey-roast dormice). But salad, right? Mixed salad? We're talking lettuce, tomato, cucumber. Carrots and onion if I'm lucky. Last night I lucked out and even got asparagus. What I got today included egg (fine if unusual) and tuna. On what planet does a mixed damn salad include fish?! I discovered I have at least a part share in my sister's ability to dissect a risotto, because ten minutes of fork flicking later, I had half a de-tuna'd salad I could actually eat. Alas the rest was unsalvageable. Now, how do I say ovo-vegetarian in Portugese?