Monday, March 29. Hungry Town. La Carreta. The UPS truck pulled in around noon. I always know when it's here, because the dog Suzie goes bananas. Nice to know that nothing can sneak up on us at the Cool Water Ranch. (Except, of course, when Suzie is on one of her excursions, which range very wide in the woods and who knows where else.
The delivery was one I'd begun to wonder about. Here were the first two copies of Hungry Town, my new book! It looks much better than the preview copies I've had for months, which had a cigarette-smoke yellow background color. The real deal was jacketed with an off-white, embossed to make it seem clothlike. The fork and spoon are also embossed on the paper, making them seem vaguely real. My first hard-cover book! There's nothing quite like the feeling of holding a finished book of your own in your hands for the first time. It's not as intense as holding your newborn healthy baby, but it's a little like that. The smile that spreads over your face is irrepressible.
Mary Leigh returned from school in the middle of the radio show. When it was over, we went to dinner. Her pick, of course: La Carreta. The place was busy. All the outdoor tables were full. Too bad: the sun was going down and the environment was perfect for dining outside. If Mary Ann had been with us, she would have insisted that we wait for an alfresco table.
Instead, we were in a dining room dominated by television screens. All on ESPN, of course. Nothing major was going on, as far as I could tell. Do they now rehash the past football season continually until the new season begins?
And do all the customers in restaurants really want to watch sports? I understand it when a major game is on, but for this stuff? Wouldn't they sell more food if they showed the Food Network, or the Travel Channel? Or, perhaps, if they turned the damn things off? So you can talk with the people you're with, instead of constantly being distracted? Is there any chance that these ideas will ever be taken seriously by the mainstream? I don't think so.
After the usual two baskets of tortilla chips with queso (too thick, but good) and salsa (almost too spicy, but La Carreta's may be the best salsa in the area), Mary Leigh chose a trio of shredded beef tacos and I a chile relleno plate. The latter was much better than I expected. The poblano pepper, stuffed with white cheese, had a pleasantly light batter, as opposed to the tempura-like thickness usually found on these things. Also on the plate were two flour tortillas stuffed respectively with beef picadillo and chopped chicken. The sauces--a ruddy brown one and a tomato sauce a lot like Creole sauce--were very good, too. My only complaint was that this was way too much food. But the customers of Mexican restaurants demand that, to their detriment, I'd say.
The p.r. lady for La Carreta wrote a few weeks ago to ask me whether they could quote my review on their web site. She said I explained most accurately the difference between La Carreta (which I like) and the unrelated Carreta's Grill (which I don't). While we were corresponding, I took La Carreta to task for not having anything on the menu with mole poblano sauce, the highest achievement of Mexican cuisine and one of the greatest sauces in the world. She said she'd passed along my suggestion to the management, that they'd done some test runs of it, and everybody in the office gobbled it up. Mole is expensive and complicated to make, but I'd pay for it.
Back at home, when Mary Leigh went upstairs to her room at bedtime, it was the last time I would see her for nearly five days, even though both of us came home every day. I don't like not seeing her, but I am proud that she's self-reliant enough to get along without either parent.
La Carreta. Mandeville: 1200 W. Causeway Approach 985-624-2990. Mexican.
