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cyranoI'm up way too late. But it was pretty much worth it.
I offered to chauffer Ebonlock to dancing tonight, as it sounded like she could use it. And apparently she could. I stopped by to pick her up, got to talk to BHA very briefly, and gave E a couple of CDs I thought she'd be interested in. And apparently she was.
The event was held at Inca Gardens, a Peruvian restaurant in San Jose down by the University. It sounds like I got the last reservation for the evening.
The very cute waiter was apparently completely overwhelmed, because after I got bored of waiting to be seated, I went around and read the 'reserved' cards until I found one with my name on it. Then I got bored again and went and got a menu off the counter. Then.... All told, it took about 90 minutes to get anything but water and E's purse on our table. In the meantime, there were lovely dancers and there was sterling dinner company and engaging conversation.
But I didn't come here to tell you that story. I came here to tell you about eating at Inca Gardens, which I eventually did.
VCW described our bill, at the end of the evening, as 'The anti-Atkins table'. I ordered papas fritas, fried sweet potato, and two more potato dishes, one with egg and olive, the other with walnut, both with spicy cheese sauce. I also ordered a drink--one of the web reviews of the restaurant had mentioned something called Chica Madora, which was described as ginger flavored sasparilla. Which fascinated me. However, when I got to the restaurant, the drink described under that name was 'purple corn juice flavored with citrus'. I mentioned the drink described in the review and he nodded and said that was Chica Madora. So I ordered it. And, nearly two and a half hours after ordering it, it arrived. And I tried it. And it tasted like purple corn juice. I didn't even taste the citrus.
Oh. And in between ordering and purple corn juice, there was the other food. The fried things were very yummy, but I wish they'd been drained a little better. The eggy, olivey cheesey potatoes were quite good, and the spicy part snuck up on you just like I like it to. The tastes worked well together. The walnutty cheesy potatoes were... a little too 'green' tasting for my liking, but were much sneakier with the spicy. Which I admired.
In addition, VCW delivered something that I thought was a reward for not gnawing on him while waiting for my food to arrive, but which later turned out to be just something he'd left on the table by accident. There was corn (non-purple), a thick yummy slice of plantain, and red onions and some sort of marine animal soaked in a spicy lime juice. He also left a tiny sipping glass of the lime juice. I would have enjoyed that much more if the lime juice were not so cilanterrific. I'm not a big fan of the taste of cilantro, and in fact when I started ordering I told VCW "I do not like cilantro. If I order anything that has it, please hit me with a fork." But I do love limes. Mmmm. Limey.
So, some significant time later, when we'd grown tired of waiting for the check, we went up to the cash register and admired the painting on the wall that either was of a very poultry-oriented angel or a Peruvian Chicken Man. He had wings, and a long red tail-shaped jacket, and his shoes had long straight yellow laces, and his yellow hat had a beak in front and a plumey feather in back. E mentioned his glowy staff, and I decided that the iconography of the glowy staff indicated that the subject of the portrait could go out at night or into otherwise dark situations. I stayed and listened to VCW babble in fatigue as he tried to figure out how much we owed and how the cash register worked, until I was ready to pass out from heat exhaustion, then I left him to E's tender mercies and stood outside until she was done and I could drop her off back at her apartment.
I look forward to doing it again.
I offered to chauffer Ebonlock to dancing tonight, as it sounded like she could use it. And apparently she could. I stopped by to pick her up, got to talk to BHA very briefly, and gave E a couple of CDs I thought she'd be interested in. And apparently she was.
The event was held at Inca Gardens, a Peruvian restaurant in San Jose down by the University. It sounds like I got the last reservation for the evening.
The very cute waiter was apparently completely overwhelmed, because after I got bored of waiting to be seated, I went around and read the 'reserved' cards until I found one with my name on it. Then I got bored again and went and got a menu off the counter. Then.... All told, it took about 90 minutes to get anything but water and E's purse on our table. In the meantime, there were lovely dancers and there was sterling dinner company and engaging conversation.
But I didn't come here to tell you that story. I came here to tell you about eating at Inca Gardens, which I eventually did.
VCW described our bill, at the end of the evening, as 'The anti-Atkins table'. I ordered papas fritas, fried sweet potato, and two more potato dishes, one with egg and olive, the other with walnut, both with spicy cheese sauce. I also ordered a drink--one of the web reviews of the restaurant had mentioned something called Chica Madora, which was described as ginger flavored sasparilla. Which fascinated me. However, when I got to the restaurant, the drink described under that name was 'purple corn juice flavored with citrus'. I mentioned the drink described in the review and he nodded and said that was Chica Madora. So I ordered it. And, nearly two and a half hours after ordering it, it arrived. And I tried it. And it tasted like purple corn juice. I didn't even taste the citrus.
Oh. And in between ordering and purple corn juice, there was the other food. The fried things were very yummy, but I wish they'd been drained a little better. The eggy, olivey cheesey potatoes were quite good, and the spicy part snuck up on you just like I like it to. The tastes worked well together. The walnutty cheesy potatoes were... a little too 'green' tasting for my liking, but were much sneakier with the spicy. Which I admired.
In addition, VCW delivered something that I thought was a reward for not gnawing on him while waiting for my food to arrive, but which later turned out to be just something he'd left on the table by accident. There was corn (non-purple), a thick yummy slice of plantain, and red onions and some sort of marine animal soaked in a spicy lime juice. He also left a tiny sipping glass of the lime juice. I would have enjoyed that much more if the lime juice were not so cilanterrific. I'm not a big fan of the taste of cilantro, and in fact when I started ordering I told VCW "I do not like cilantro. If I order anything that has it, please hit me with a fork." But I do love limes. Mmmm. Limey.
So, some significant time later, when we'd grown tired of waiting for the check, we went up to the cash register and admired the painting on the wall that either was of a very poultry-oriented angel or a Peruvian Chicken Man. He had wings, and a long red tail-shaped jacket, and his shoes had long straight yellow laces, and his yellow hat had a beak in front and a plumey feather in back. E mentioned his glowy staff, and I decided that the iconography of the glowy staff indicated that the subject of the portrait could go out at night or into otherwise dark situations. I stayed and listened to VCW babble in fatigue as he tried to figure out how much we owed and how the cash register worked, until I was ready to pass out from heat exhaustion, then I left him to E's tender mercies and stood outside until she was done and I could drop her off back at her apartment.
I look forward to doing it again.
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no subject
Date: 2004-08-22 11:05 am (UTC)Oh yes. And give my hubby lessons.
Kidding, kidding. ;)
no subject
Date: 2004-08-22 04:36 pm (UTC)Restaurant reviewing? Chauffering?
no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 05:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 09:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-24 02:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-24 11:02 pm (UTC)