Shame on me.
But I am still writing. And I can imagine that there are other writers in this cafe as well.
Had a wonderful dinner...authentic Mexican cuisine, not the "fifty-food-groups-wrapped-in-a-tortilla-for-five-bucks" that visitors to the Mission might normally think of. I partook of the following:
- White wine
- Tortilla soup
- Salsa with roasted tomatoes and peppers
- A chicken dish called Tinga de Pollo, with shredded chicken, chipotle sauce, onions, and avacado salsa
- Fresh and HOT tortillas (so fresh that they melt in the mouth, and perish fast)
- Flan...ah, flaaaan...
- And a cup of strong, black coffee
The waiter was attentive and when he brought my check he said, "Are you visiting the City?" Ahahahaha...I still look like a freakin' Amish girl. "I'm visiting from the Sunset," I said. "But I'm in the neighborhood once a week." "Ahhh," he nodded, pleased. "Then you must come back. We have seasonal dishes. They change all the time. Are you a reader?" READER? AM I IN DISNEYLAND OR SOMETHING? "Yes, I am a reader." "Then you must read 'Like Water For Chocolate'," he said, only he said it first in Spanish. I could only recognize "chocolate" in the litany. He said it again, patiently, in English. "Oh, yes, I have heard of it!" (Haven't read it yet--I'm so lame in this town...) "You must read it. The owner has read it and that's how he cooks. Everything is fresh." Yes, fresh, and the onions had a distinctive carmelization I have never tasted before, and the flan was like whipping cream...
"You must read it."
My God. I have died and gone to Latino heaven. He reads and he preaches good food. (Bites lip and halts an orgasm.)
The name of the restaurant is Regalito Rosticeria, at 18th and Valencia. Not cheap, but if you do decide to treat yourself...but then, I'm prejudiced. They READ...
It's like a magical kingdom.