So Many Choices, It's Not Fair

I had to run some errands today which brought me to the city of New Rochelle, which was founded by Huguenots fleeing persecution in France. New Rochelle is a very ethnically diverse community, and has had a sizable Mexican-American population for the past four decades. New Rochelle's Mexican restaurants are the best in my neck of the woods, and even Mexican food aficianados living in New York City would be well-advised to check them out.

After parking in front of a friend's (he's the guy who hired me to work at for The Gates project) place of business, I ran to the bank, passing such fantastic Mexican restaurants as The Little Mexican Cafe, The Mexican Corner Restaurant, La Herradura Mexican Pizzeria and Restaurant. I also passed by Indian restaurants Rangoli and Coromandel and Peruvian restaurants La Brisa Marina and Cholo's Kitchen. Golden Krust Jamaican Bakery was also within easy walking distance. Each place beckoned, but I was in the mood for some tacos from hole-in-the-wall wonder El Michoacano. Having a ravenous hunger, I ordered four tacos- carnitas (roast pork), cabeza (stewed beef head), buche (pork stomach), and chorizo (hot sausage)- to wash it down, I ordered a large horchata. Before my order came to the table, the charming proprietress placed a bowl of sliced, pickled carrots and jalapeños and a small plate of corn chips with refried beans on my table. The tacos came, garnished with sliced radishes quartered limes, and some quickly fried onions. The horchata came in a 32-ounce takout container.

I ate a leisurely meal, watching La Rosa de Guadelupe with a young family and a couple of guys on their lunch break. The meal itself was stellar, I won't have to be eating dinner tonight.

I used to work in New Rochelle years ago, and fell in love with the restaurant scene- there are a lot of great places from which to choose. Unfortunately, I don't get there too often these days (the city, while not far from my home, is a pain in the ass to get to, a drive there involves travelling on local roads which tend to be congested). I was grateful to have an opportunity to partake of the local cuisine, and even more grateful to run into my friend and shoot the breeze for a while.

I don't forage all the time! Bonus New Rochelle trivia, the superhero defender of New Rochelle is The Blowfish Avenger.

UPDATE: I put this post together pretty hastily, so I forgot to add my joke that the city would have been cooler if it had been founded not by Huguenot refugees from La Rochelle, but by heathen refugees from Averoigne, though the city would have been called New Ximes under those circumstances.

Also, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that the post title is cribbed from a relentlessly poppy Guadalcanal Diary song: