Tuesday, May 11. Burrito Warms Up To Me. Last summer Mary Ann had a load of soil delivered to our house while I wasn't looking. Her idea was to fill in a border along our driveway, and to plant flowers there. I have two problems with this, which is why she did it on the sly. The first is that we have long used that stretch for parking extra cars when people come over. Now they must park on the lawn. When it rains a lot, they get stuck. And since we have three cars and only two carport spaces, we always have an extra car. This morning, for example, I had to move my car so Mary Leigh could get out, and then move it again a half-hour later so Mary Ann could get out.
My second problem is that this patch of ground is on an incline that continues downhill all the way to the road. Any soil placed there will get washed away. But one must choose one's battles, and I just let it go.
The pile of soil is now half its original size. MA spread most of it around, but a lot of it has washed away. None of the dozens of flowering plants MA planted in it have survived. The mud must have come from somewhere on the South Shore, because weeds I've never seen before over here are coming up. Ragweed, for example. But we are getting a nice growth of black-eye susans, a cheerful yellow flower whose bulbous black center gives rise to another common name. I haven't seen this many of them since I was a little kid living in a new part of Kenner.
Dinner tonight at Taco San Miguel in Metairie. I've had my eye on this place for some time, but by the time I get there it's always empty. (I think they do most of their business at breakfast and lunch.) I don't like dining in an empty restaurant, because it colors my impression of the place. Today there were quite a few cars in the lot. I had to park around back.
Inside, though, not another soul was dining. Even greater than my dislike for empty restaurants is leaving a restaurant once I'm there. I stood at the cafeteria-style counter and looked over the long menu. The señorita seemed unhappy that I was there, let alone that I was taking so long. I asked for the Burrito Monterrey--with beef tongue. And a Dos Equis. (Some day I want to ask for a Quattro Equis, and when I get the puzzled look, I'll say, "Okay, make it two Dos Equis.")
I sat down and waited. Señorita--suddenly much friendlier--told me that I could help myself to salsa bar. Then went over there and helped me. She brought a red salsa she said was very hot, and a milder green one. Both were good, the red one well within my tolerance. And a basket of tortilla chips in the three colors of the Mexican flag, matching the neon lights that run around the edge of the restaurant's roof.
After a few minutes señorita brought the burrito in a paper-lined plastic basket. It was the size and shape of a poor boy sandwich, and cut in two pieces. The ends were wrapped so deftly that when I picked it up, nothing came out the back end. Inside were thick slices of tongue, avocado, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and rice moistened with gravy. I was never excited by these overstuffed burritos when they became popular ten or fifteen years ago. But I really liked this. Its contents had a fascinating contrast between meaty and crunchy, soft and firm, cool and warm. I couldn't finish it, good as it was. The price was something like seven bucks. What a bargain! This one will need a few more visits.
Taco San Miguel. Metairie: 3517 20th St . 504-267-4027. Mexican.
