Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Day 6: Maria's Mexican Restaurant

Did Maria’s even stand a chance?

All of Plaza Midwood awoke this morning, powerless in the grip of not a functional light switch, sweaty on top of the sheets, sleep deprived. Them afternoon stormings. At the unlikeliness of a planned 7:30 am “Honduras in the World Cup” party actually happening (ahem…Christy), I rolled over until getting over to Sanctuary in NoDa to catch the second half of what should have been Spain putting holes in the Swiss and grab a coffee. Suffice it to say I defeatedly rocked my sweaty David Villa jersey the rest of the day.

Christy was down to ride for some Linares, but I was afraid that the Central Ave would still be sans electricity as it was last night. So, we redirected for Roasting Company, a “Costa Rican-inspired” lunch place off Park Road. Roasting Co, you beckoned to me with your chicken in a hat logo and then betrayed me with your cafeteria-style line and absence of chips and salsa. We left almost immediately upon entry and set sail for South Blvd.

Maria’s Mexican Restaurant seemed as good a choice as any. (It wasn’t.) Christy and I both ordered the lunch special, a “burro.” Following the logic of Spanish grammar in which the suffixes “–ito” and “–ita” denote smallness (as in the sentence, “Buzzee, if you don’t quit whipping yo mama’s Camry like a driver’s ed Chevy Cobalt this momentito, I’m going to roll down the window and vomit all over the remains of your passenger side mirror”), we expected larger-than-average burritos. Or a donkey. We curiously received smaller-than-average burritos of middling quality with refried beans and very orange (but, disappointingly, not orange-flavored) rice. Maria’s saving grace was the pineapple juice. Nice and pulpy, just how I like it.

The Score: Rough food after a rough night.

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