Yo Quiero...

One of the hardest parts of leaving Los Angeles is leaving its sheer abundance of cosmopolitan food selection. They say, after all, that you know that you're a real Southern Californian if you have a favorite Thai restaurant. My personal fave? "Mix Bowl Cafe" on Indian Hill off the Interstate 10. That place served as my pure refuge when I couldn't stomach cafeteria food any longer, was too lazy (or drunk) to cook anything at 2 am, or too disgusted to eat oil-drenched fast food. I never regretted spending my hard earned dollars on a plate of freshly cooked-to-order chicken with cashew nuts over rice or a steaming plate of pad thai partnered with boba swimming at the bottom of a sea of thirst-quenching Thai iced tea. Indeed, I'm salivating just thinking about it.

Much to my surprise, there is ONE Thai restaurant within reasonable driving distance from where we live now.. a finders keepers credit due to one of Mike's co-workers (who also happens to be asian AND a California native). The food is nothing close to spectacular, and I'm sad to say that the same reason they can jack up their meal prices to above reasonable is the same reason I keep going back -- simply because it's the only one around (perhaps in the whole state of West Virginia). In fact, I might pay them a visit tonight. Since Mike's out of town, I possess zero motivation to cook. Another downfall: they don't serve boba.

True Southern Californians laugh at the face of the talking chihuahua because Taco Bell and Del Taco aren't even considered authentic mexican food. Those who live close enough to the border are especially blessed, but non-mainstream taco shacks are just extraordinarily everywhere. And depending on how close you live to a Mexican community, you might even get lucky and find an actual roving burrito truck. I especially love going to Olvera Street in downtown Los Angeles in the middle of a Cinco de Mayo celebration.. sure, it's a bitch to find parking, but all is fair in love, war, and superb carne asada. The vendors have even gotten smart and through the years upgraded their menus from bilingual to ALL PICTURE menus so all you have to do is point and you're on your way to culinary heaven. And who could forget King Taco? They're small, often crowded, hardly anyone speaks English, but the smell alone will capture you. There's nothing like the smell of King Taco's tamales in the afternoon....

Around here, they have a chain of mexican restaurants called "Rio Grande" (Ri-o meaning River by translation and Gran-de meaning Big by translation, although Mike insists on calling it "grand" as he would call the Grand Canyon. I fancy the way he discards the "e" when he pronounces it, he says it's the "American" way of saying it...) *giggle* --- The food isn't bad, in my opinion. The chefs have travelled far but has stayed relatively close to their roots. Perhaps, the even more interesting fact is that EVERY mexican who lives in the great ol' state of West Virginia works in a Rio Grande. I'm not sure if that's a recruiting gambit or just a correlation that the first job application a mexican migrant fills out is to a place where he could make use of his/her first language. Either way, Mike and I have become frequent visitors there that they now all call us their "amigos"..... (they actually call everyone that, lol). But I'm a little embarassed to say, that lately I have been craving a lot of Taco Bell's Southwest steak bowl... a far cry from the authentic Mexican food I was spoiled with, but... I'm pregnant and I'm hungry..

..which ultimately means, I'm desperate.