The story “Salsa Explosion” was written by a woman who has had some interesting experiences with food. The story's setting, and the mood it creates, actually plays a big role in the way the story ends. As you read the story, note the many sensory details and think about how these setting details affect the story's other elements.
Which of the following details does NOT add to the relaxing mood of the narrator’s trip to Florida?
- the “sign on the table warning DO NOT SHAKE THE SALSA”
- the “rhythmic roar of the Atlantic Ocean”
- the “breeze-ruffled patrons”
- the “seagulls circling overhead and the ocean shining”
Most readers will associate the quiet beach atmosphere with peace and relaxation. The detail of the sign on the table creates an atmosphere of humor and suspense, and does not describe the story’s beach setting.
Most readers will associate the quiet beach atmosphere with peace and relaxation. The detail of the sign on the table creates an atmosphere of humor and suspense, and does not describe the story’s beach setting.
Most readers will associate the quiet beach atmosphere with peace and relaxation. The detail of the sign on the table creates an atmosphere of humor and suspense, and does not describe the story’s beach setting.
Most readers will associate the quiet beach atmosphere with peace and relaxation. The detail of the sign on the table creates an atmosphere of humor and suspense, and does not describe the story’s beach setting.
What is the setting of “Salsa Explosion”?
- the beach
- Florida
- a restaurant
- all of the above
A story can have multiple settings. Setting can be used to describe a place (like a house, a farm, or a museum), a location (like Nebraska, Africa, or New York City), and a time (like the future, during the Civil Rights Movement, or last week).
A story can have multiple settings. Setting can be used to describe a place (like a house, a farm, or a museum), a location (like Nebraska, Africa, or New York City), and a time (like the future, during the Civil Rights Movement, or last week).
A story can have multiple settings. Setting can be used to describe a place (like a house, a farm, or a museum), a location (like Nebraska, Africa, or New York City), and a time (like the future, during the Civil Rights Movement, or last week).
A story can have multiple settings. Setting can be used to describe a place (like a house, a farm, or a museum), a location (like Nebraska, Africa, or New York City), and a time (like the future, during the Civil Rights Movement, or last week).
Which of the following is NOT an example of how the narrator helps characterize her husband?
- by noting that the seagulls distract him when he should be reading the sign
- by explaining that the drive to the beach took nine hours
- by stating that the husband’s favorite condiment is salsa
- by telling the reader that her husband wears glasses
Characterization is the process by which an author reveals who a character is as a person. In this story, the narrator tells the reader that her husband wears glasses, likes salsa, and is easily distracted.
Characterization is the process by which an author reveals who a character is as a person. In this story, the narrator tells the reader that her husband wears glasses, likes salsa, and is easily distracted.
Characterization is the process by which an author reveals who a character is as a person. In this story, the narrator tells the reader that her husband wears glasses, likes salsa, and is easily distracted.
Characterization is the process by which an author reveals who a character is as a person. In this story, the narrator tells the reader that her husband wears glasses, likes salsa, and is easily distracted.
Which sentence includes sensory details?
- "The first time I ate a pretzel from a street cart in New York City, I was fourteen."
- 'It was winter, I was traveling with a school group..."
- "The pretzel was hot and fragrant and studded with crystals of salt..."
- "That pretzel made me want to travel the world in search of other moments like this."
Sensory details are details that appeal to one (or more) of the reader’s five senses: touch, taste, smell, sound, and sight. In this sentence, the pretzel is described as hot (touch), fragrant (smell), and studded with crystals of salt (sight).
Sensory details are details that appeal to one (or more) of the reader’s five senses: touch, taste, smell, sound, and sight. In this sentence, the pretzel is described as hot (touch), fragrant (smell), and studded with crystals of salt (sight).
Sensory details are details that appeal to one (or more) of the reader’s five senses: touch, taste, smell, sound, and sight. In this sentence, the pretzel is described as hot (touch), fragrant (smell), and studded with crystals of salt (sight).
Sensory details are details that appeal to one (or more) of the reader’s five senses: touch, taste, smell, sound, and sight. In this sentence, the pretzel is described as hot (touch), fragrant (smell), and studded with crystals of salt (sight).
Summary
Questions answered correctly:
Questions answered incorrectly:
Salsa Explosion
The first time I ate a pretzel from a street cart in New York City, I was fourteen. It was winter, I was traveling with a school group, and we were all bundled against the cold wind. The pretzel was hot and fragrant and studded with crystals of salt, and I thought that I had never tasted anything so good. That pretzel made me want to travel the world in search of other moments like this.
Since that pretzel, though, I have learned that travel is not for the timid. You have to be courageous and open to surprises, especially when it comes to food. After all, you never know when you might be attacked by your food, as my husband once was, on a beach in Florida.
It was mid-winter, and we had decided to take a mini-vacation to somewhere warm. We drove south for nine hours, peeling off coats and sweaters as the temperatures rose. Eventually we arrived in St. Augustine, Florida, the oldest city on the east coast. We found a hotel on the beach, unloaded the car, happily settled into our room, and drifted off to sleep to the rhythmic roar of the Atlantic Ocean pounding the shore. The next day, we dressed in shorts and t-shirts and spent the morning walking barefoot along the beach, marveling at white sand so fine it squeaked against the soles of our feet.
The sun rose hot in the noon sky, and we grew pleasantly hungry, so we found a small open-air café on the beach and took a seat at one of the rough wooden tables. The other breeze-ruffled patrons were drinking soda and dipping their fries into ketchup; everyone seemed happy and relaxed. My husband and I sat side by side, gazing out at the ocean, with our backs to the window of the café behind us. We ordered fish platters with coleslaw.
When the food arrived, on paper plates, my husband reached for the large bottle of special house-made salsa sitting in the middle of the table. We were too busy watching the seagulls circling overhead and the ocean shining to notice the small sign on the table warning, in all capital letters: DO NOT SHAKE THE SALSA.
My husband began to shake the salsa.
First, he swished the bottle from side to side, pointing out to me the funny way the little sun-daubers on the beach ran away from the waves. Then, he began thumping the bottom of the jar against his palm—five, six, seven times.
The salsa was well and truly shaken.
I was just taking my first bite of fish when he flipped open the lid. With a deafening sound, the salsa EXPLODED out of the bottle in a hot and chunky wave. I ducked to the side as I felt the bits of tomato and onion splatter my arm and face. Gasping, I turned to find my husband completely covered in his favorite spicy condiment.
The red sauce coated his hair, his beard, his shirt, and his arms. Calmly, he reached up to remove his salsa-coated glasses, revealing two perfect circles of bare flesh around his eyes. The other patrons began to laugh as I stared aghast. I wasn’t sure what to say. “It’s even in your ears!” I offered.
One little boy pointed behind us and said, “Look!”
We turned around and saw that the salsa had splattered in a giant circle onto the window behind us, leaving a perfect man-shaped area of clean window in the center. We were weak with laughter when the waitress finally stepped out of the café, handed him a towel, and said in a curt and annoyed voice, “That’s why we tell you . . . [she pointed to the sign] NOT to shake the salsa.”
