When is cheese not cheese? When it's what Texans refer to as queso. Now isn't queso just the Spanish word for cheese? Not when you're in Texas, my friends. Let me set the stage.
I LOVE Mexican food. I could eat Mexican food 5 or 6 days of the week (and did for a year when I worked at a Mexican restaurant). It truly must be my Mexican roots showing. Anyway, while not exactly adamant that my Mexican food be "authentic," I do expect it to closely resemble the real thing. I should have first been warned with the restaurant here called Taco Bueno.
One hungry night after we first moved here I stopped at Taco Bueno. While not quite tricked by their attempt to convice me that they were indeed Good, I ordered a meal from them nevertheless. Afterall, if I we were going to share living in the same time, I was going to have to become acquainted with them at some time. And there's never any time like the present. I ordered the sour cream chicken chilada platter. I mean, how can you go wrong with something that says "sour cream" in the name? Well, the meal wasn't that bad. But the "chiladas" were served with flour tortillas. Hmm . . . it reminded me of a college roommate's recipe for enchiladas--flour tortillas, ground hamburger, and tomato sauce (not even salsa or enchilada sauce). But I digress. At a later date I sampled their burrito covered with 3 sauces. And this was the first time, unbeknownst to me, that I was introduced to the ubiquitous queso. The burrito was even more disappointing than the sour cream chiladas.
The next time I met my nemesis was when I went to the Taco Cabana. How could their food not be good with such a catchy-Barry-esque name? I ordered nachos (a particular weakness) for me and a quesadilla with chips for Rachel. The Voice over the intercom asked if I wanted the salsa or the queso with the chips. Were they just trying to be clever? I got my nachos and opened the carton. Hungry anticipation making my mouth begin to water. Well, once again queso reared its ugly head. On their nachos? Not my favorite oohey, gooey melted cheese, but queso. You know, the yucky, entirely synthetic, not even containing one ounce of anything natural cheese sauce that you put on the nachos you buy at the football concession stand? They had to be kidding. Right?
Then a friend, Joseph, and I went to what promised to be a fantastic (or at least mostly authentic) Mexican restaurant. I couldn't wait. When I opened the menu, however, I wanted to scream. On almost every entree, the choices were "covered with chili con carne" or "served with queso." AAAHHH!!! I couldn't escape this demonic creation. I finally settled on flautas served with--queso. Then as we went to pay, they had queso for sale in glass jars. Just in case I didn't have enough nastiness at their restaurant.
Well, I'm still on the look out for some real Mexican food. I'll let you know when I find some. Until then, please feel free to overnight me a real meal. I'm beginning to have withdrawls.
I LOVE Mexican food. I could eat Mexican food 5 or 6 days of the week (and did for a year when I worked at a Mexican restaurant). It truly must be my Mexican roots showing. Anyway, while not exactly adamant that my Mexican food be "authentic," I do expect it to closely resemble the real thing. I should have first been warned with the restaurant here called Taco Bueno.
One hungry night after we first moved here I stopped at Taco Bueno. While not quite tricked by their attempt to convice me that they were indeed Good, I ordered a meal from them nevertheless. Afterall, if I we were going to share living in the same time, I was going to have to become acquainted with them at some time. And there's never any time like the present. I ordered the sour cream chicken chilada platter. I mean, how can you go wrong with something that says "sour cream" in the name? Well, the meal wasn't that bad. But the "chiladas" were served with flour tortillas. Hmm . . . it reminded me of a college roommate's recipe for enchiladas--flour tortillas, ground hamburger, and tomato sauce (not even salsa or enchilada sauce). But I digress. At a later date I sampled their burrito covered with 3 sauces. And this was the first time, unbeknownst to me, that I was introduced to the ubiquitous queso. The burrito was even more disappointing than the sour cream chiladas.
The next time I met my nemesis was when I went to the Taco Cabana. How could their food not be good with such a catchy-Barry-esque name? I ordered nachos (a particular weakness) for me and a quesadilla with chips for Rachel. The Voice over the intercom asked if I wanted the salsa or the queso with the chips. Were they just trying to be clever? I got my nachos and opened the carton. Hungry anticipation making my mouth begin to water. Well, once again queso reared its ugly head. On their nachos? Not my favorite oohey, gooey melted cheese, but queso. You know, the yucky, entirely synthetic, not even containing one ounce of anything natural cheese sauce that you put on the nachos you buy at the football concession stand? They had to be kidding. Right?
Then a friend, Joseph, and I went to what promised to be a fantastic (or at least mostly authentic) Mexican restaurant. I couldn't wait. When I opened the menu, however, I wanted to scream. On almost every entree, the choices were "covered with chili con carne" or "served with queso." AAAHHH!!! I couldn't escape this demonic creation. I finally settled on flautas served with--queso. Then as we went to pay, they had queso for sale in glass jars. Just in case I didn't have enough nastiness at their restaurant.
Well, I'm still on the look out for some real Mexican food. I'll let you know when I find some. Until then, please feel free to overnight me a real meal. I'm beginning to have withdrawls.
