The taco incident.

I am hiding from this this weekend and am thus remaining close to the biosphere. And I have the freshly vacuumed floors to show for it.

I went here after yoga today (before which I regret to report that I committed another yoga foul in the form of thought crimes against what seemed to be a perfectly able-bodied individual deciding that it was wiser to render the narrow parking lot impassable for several minutes than—God Forbid—park a couple extra yards down the way; even better if this person was doing this en route to yoga, since, uh, fitness is kind of the point (or one of them), right? This would be so much less of an issue if the sedan wasn't on the verge of extinction in America, which I usually refer to as the U.S., but there is just something so very AMERICA about this, okay, screed off). I got the blue plate combo: two tacos, plus rice and beans (the former brown and the latter refried black, both of which were tasty). My taco selections:

The Heather (as in, what’s your damage, Heather?): grilled Mexican queso fresco, refried black beans (no such thing as too much of a good thing!), guacamole, lettuce, and tomato. Simple and good!

Papadulce: oven-roasted sweet potatoes (I want to like you, sweet potatoes, but you just won't let me. Let me like you, sweet potatoes!), grilled corn (scarcely in evidence, alas), roasted peppers, caramelized onion, toasted pepitas (uh, where were you guys? You let me down, dudes.), and spicy camote sauce (don't know what that is, but I am a spice wuss and I didn't feel the burn).

The overall verdict? Decent, but nothing that will send a siren song across future Mexican food hunger waves (shut up, that sentence was not awkward). The flour tortillas were quite delicious, and the salsas from the salsa bar were strong medicine, a little demasiado picante para mi sangre.

And now the rest of the day looms. I plan to hole up and read this and this, and dream of visiting this, when it isn't closed due to ACL.