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PEOPLE & VOICES - Eating Out

Eating Out
By La Huerita

Once upon a time, in the youthful days of a now famous resort town in The Baja, I ran across some friends in the local supermercado and we stopped in the middle of the aisle to chat. The conversation turned to a new restaurant they had discovered outside of town, run by a local family in a converted house. I was assured that I simply HAD to try it.

The directions to this new establishment went something like this:

“Well, you take the main road out of town (watch out for the traffic cop lurking behind the last stop sign, he’s a devil for ticketing gringos). About five or six miles past the sewer pumping station you’ll see a turnoff on your right. You’ll know it’s the one because you’ll see Pacifico bottles lined up on the fence. Don’t turn there, it’s just a landmark for you.

“A mile or so past the fence with bottles on it is the place where the depository used to be, you know, the one that burned down a couple years ago? OK, so half a mile from that you’ll see a dirt turnoff on the left side of the road. That’s the one you want. You’ll know it’s the right one because there’s a pink house near the corner with a pig in a dog harness tethered to a tree in the front yard.

“Turn left there, drive past the pig a few hundred yards and on your right you’ll see a turquoise house with orange trim, and they’ve set up tables under a big palapa in the front yard. That’s the place!

“Order the chicken enchiladas and a chile relleno. They’re AWESOME!”

So a couple of days later hubby and I headed out for a new dining adventure. We made it past the sneaky cop at the stop sign, past the sewer pumping station, past the fence with bottles on it and the charred area where the depository used to be and found the pink house with the pig in front without any problem. Triumphant, and salivating for possibly the greatest dinner of our lifetime, we pulled up in front of the house/restaurant with the big palapa in front. It was closed.

What to do? Well, we were hungry so back to town we went. We decided to stop at a popular restaurant we liked, found an empty table in a back corner and placed our order (chicken enchiladas and chiles rellenos!).

We waited about half an hour for our meal to arrive, kicking back in our chairs and enjoying the buzz of the place. When our food finally arrived— it wasn’t what we had ordered. DH found himself with a fine looking mixed plate, and I had chile Colorado con carne.

Laughing a little, we shrugged and dug in. It was very good, though maybe not as good as a meal near the pig place might have been.

The moral? Welcome to Mexico. Don’t sweat the small stuff.

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1 comment:

  1. I loved this and would love to be in touch. I'm working for a newspaper and thought you might write something for me. But I can't find you. Please email me Thanks very much, Barb