Tonight a whole big bunch of us — okay, maybe not so big, we were only six — piled into a clown car and headed over to La Señorita’s. There really wasn’t a special occasion, except for A had a friend over and he really wanted to go to that particular restaurant, and I’m always open for a party.
We had a jolly good time being the loudest ones there. Our waiter was superb. He won me over at the end of the meal when three of us ordered deep-fried ice cream and he brought out five spoons and immediately handed one to me (I hadn’t ordered any). Smart, smart guy. He’ll make his girlfriend really happy one day.
He’s also an educator. We were all eating our chimichangas and flautas and quesadillas and probably talking really loudly about how much we like cheese. T loves cheese, and A had gotten the queso dip and was just so thrilled with herself. He’s over a few tables wiping it down, when suddenly he comes over to our table and decides to inform us.
Today I learned that the Mexicans don’t really use cheese in their food.
The closest semblence to authentic Mexican food that I’ve ever had is technically from Costa Rica. So I can tell you that in that particular country, he’s right — I didn’t see cheese nearly as much as you do here at Taco Bell. But when it comes to Mexico, I’ll take his word for it.
Funny how we Americanize just about EVERY type of foreign food. Italian, Chinese, Japanese, Mexican… why is that? We’re scared of things being too different? Our taste palates are designed differently to enjoy different tastes? And don’t tell me it’s because of “culinary creativity” — Chinese food is different than it is in China, but it’s uniform throughout the United States.
