I'm really not familiar with Mexican food. All we had in Regina was Taco Time.
North Carolina had some great Mexican restaurants, but I never had the brass to go much past the Carne Asada and refried beans.
So tonight, I let Bradien order for me, and I was away from the table when he did it.
Turns out he ordered the "Mojarra".
Mexican fried fish.
The entire fish, Mexican fried.
It was delicious, but I didn't dare show Adam.
It would have terrified him.
As it likely terrified the people sitting next to us.
2 comments:
That's quite a crisp, clean white shirt you're wearing. It's strange to see you in anything but a purple t-shirt with cheeseburger stains on it. Leaving Regina has done wonders for your personal grooming habits.
P.S. We do have a 'real' Mexican restaurant now (never mind that it's probably staffed by Burmese cooks) - it's called Casa de Maya and it's very good.
I no longer have that T-shirt! I disposed of it during our most recent move.
It was half-way between a Mauve a Lilac, and it looked like something Bea Arthur may have worn while gardening.
It was part of the Foot Locker collection: five t-shirts-slash-future-painting-rags for $19.99; with such classic masculine colors as baby blue, egg-plant, olive, and "asparagus".
Adrian and Sam J. mocked me for a week because of those shirts. (I think Adrian secretly wanted to borrow the, truth be told.) Bob could always be counted on to say, "Well, I like them.".
In terms of the food stains, I used to eat while driving. Now I don't eat while driving. I eat at a table.
And I still spill on my shirt.
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