| Tuesday, February 12, 2008 |
01:46 - The more you know
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I learned a number of things this past weekend, not least of which is that in suburban New York there are Mexican restaurants whose hole-in-the-wall authenticity rivals or indeed surpasses what you'll find in LA or Arizona or the Bay Area. I'm talking waiters who don't even attempt to engage the customer in English. He comes up with the order pad and a ¿Ya listo?, and you'd better be ready with a Creo que sí, or else you're in for an embarrassing session of pointing and grunting.
And then you'd better be hungry, because it's good. (When the guy came over to ask how it was, I came close to saying ¡Espectacularrrrrr! —but that might have gone over less well if he'd gotten the reference than if he didn't, so not this time.)
Also, though I knew this already, I had it demonstrated afresh to me that you can eat well in Logan Airport in Boston. The jetlagged traveler shuffling blearily out of a jetway at lunch or dinnertime may well count himself lucky to find himself there.
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Brian Tiemann
