How Would You Descibe the Waffle? It Was Good

Wafel of Massive Deliciousness -- Wafels & Dinges
Wafels & Dinges

We owe an apology to The Waffle Truck.  For years, we had bypassed their yellow carts which can always be found sprinkled around the city, mistaking their prevalence and lines of tourists for gimmicky, unappealing food.

There's a Waffle Hidden In There Somewhere, We Promise

Never having tasted a single waffle from their premises, we head to the location of the main truck reluctantly after our Shopsin's breakfast, grumbling about our inability to find it and about the waffle we are about to order (we would spell the word 'wafel,' like the truck does, but we are ugly Americans who refuse to bend on our spelling conventions).

And While We're At It, We Also Keep Pronouncing 'Dinges' Incorrectly

"I feel like we're going to hate the toppings," Vodka states.  "But we have to get them anyway."  After all, if Sunny Anderson said on the STREET FOOD episode that we should order the "wafel of massive deliciousness" with dulce de leche, strawberries, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and walnuts, than the rules of this Best Thing I Ever Ate tour dictates that we must follow her directions.

We Are Nothing If Not Obedient

Now, we are not, generally speaking, street food people, and this lack of truck eating stems from both our doubts about a mobile kitchen's cleanliness (Vodka) and annoyance at having to track down one's sustenance rather than finding it in a permanent location (Ginger).  For instance, when we spot the truck's yellow facade hovering near Astor Place, Ginger grumbles, from two avenues away, "I would hardly call that 'between 2nd and 3rd Avenues,'" as the Waffle Truck's website had indicated.

So Far Away... Doesn't Anybody Stay in One Place Anymore?

We shuffle up to the waffle truck window and Vodka, having learned her lesson from the banana ebelskivers incident, orders our waffle before Ginger can open her mouth.  She chooses the liege (round) waffle rather than the Belgian variety (rectangular), only because she has vague visual recollections of Sunny eating the liege variety on the episode.

My Waffle, It Has No Corners, No Corners Has My Waffle

As she takes our order, the waffle truck girl asks for our "team name."  Vodka glances at Ginger out of the corner of her eye, silently asking for permission, before answering "Not Even Noon."  Instantly regretting her decision to "out" us, we begin speaking in vague terms when we are asked the reasoning behind our name, acting like certifiable members of the witness protection program rather than two second-rate food bloggers.  We eventually explain our blog (and thankfully, Waffle Girl does not seem to care enough to reveal our identity), and we head off with our overflowing waffle box in tow.

Can We Also Have a Wet Nap?

And it is at this moment that we fall head over heels in love with Wafels & Dinges.  Not because of the warm, soft waffle.  Not because of the overwhelming pile of chocolate-sprinkled whipped cream.  Not because of the red specks of strawberries or gooey dulce de leche topping or crunchy walnuts.  No, we fall in love with Wafels & Dinges because Waffle Girl has full-on Pictionaried our "team name."

Perhaps We Can Hire Her As Our Web Designer

After Vodka spends a full five minutes photographing our new graphic imagery, we hover by an East Village stoop and contemplate how to consume our creation.  While we have brought utensils with us, they prove fruitless in the face of the thick, hearty waffle, and Vodka instead shimmies the waffle partly out of its container and opens her mouth wide.

Waffle, Incoming

And when she emerges from behind the pile of WMD a second later, she does not even care that the full contents of the waffle toppings are now spread across her face -- the stuff is that good.  Handing the box over to Ginger, she confirms that all of our years of skepticism towards Wafels & Dinges was for naught -- the stuff is downright delectable.

Leggo Our Non-Eggo

First, there is the waffle itself -- warm and sweet, it is just about as far from an Eggo as one can get, and we are very pleased to have chosen the liege variety.  Of the toppings, the whipped cream is far and away our favorite -- sugary but supremely light, it is among the best we have ever tasted, and thankfully, Waffle Girl has distributed it generously.  The chocolate and dulce de leche serve their respective saucy roles, while the walnuts add crunch, and the strawberries, tang.  While we had initially doubted Sunny Anderson's combination, we are more than pleased to report that, for once, our typical cynicism was dead wrong.

Good Work, Not Even Noon Team

By the time we consume the whole waffle, we are wearing half of its contents on our faces, and it takes a full bushel of napkins to clean us up (and renders Ginger's ability to describe the waffle's flavor as anything but "good" impossible).  With so many other menu items to choose from (including the truck's famous spekuloos spread, which tastes like graham crackers), we are certain that since we've been initiated, we will become frequenters of the Waffle Truck's greatness.

And we are now supremely grateful that their carts can be found on every other Manhattan street corner.

Newbie Waffle Truck Groupies

Wafels and Dinges's Wafel of Massive Deliciousness: 5 stars*


*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate

That's the Dictator - You Two Could Have It Out

Ebelskivers -- Shopsin's
Shopsin's

Ginger keeps warning Vodka that she is going to get us kicked out of Shopsin's and Vodka is refusing to listen.  All Ginger wants is to eat our ebelskivers and nurse her hangover in peace, and all Vodka seems hellbent on doing is aggravating the Shopsin's proprietors.

You Say 'Ebelskivers,' We Say 'Munchkins'

Ginger is well-versed in the "art" of Shopsin's, most of which she learned from Kenny Shopsin's "renowned" memoir, Eat Me, and she is scared to death that we will be kicked out with empty stomachs onto Essex Street.

Vodka, figuring no one can out-nasty her if need be, has no such fear.

Hey Kenny Shopsin - You Really Wanna Take on New Jersey?!

In Vodka's defense, she is not purposely showing her irritating side -- she is merely acting like herself (which in some circles could presumably be called "irritating").  First, she mumbles a complaint under her breath when we and our Booze Before Books friend are forced to haul our own chairs off of our table and onto the floor, as if we are third graders arriving in our classroom.

"Shhh," Ginger hisses.  "You're going to get us kicked out."

Frankly, Vodka Is Controlling Herself - She Could've Complained About the Solo Cup-Like China As Well

Then, there is the matter of the Shopsin's menu, which Vodka has always refused to look at online because it makes her vision blurry.  Therefore, can it really be helped that when the waiter places our menus on the table, Vodka groans, "Ugh, this is going to give me an epileptic seizure"?

"Shhhhhhh, will you stop that?" Ginger reprimands.

Menu In Need of Ritalin

And finally, there is the matter of the Best Thing I Ever Ate dish which we are supposed to be eating: the ebelskivers, as chosen by Aaron Sanchez on the very first Best Thing I Ever Ate ORIGINAL special.  These ebelskivers, according to the chaos these people call a menu, come in a variety of incarnations (cinnamon, chocolate chip, and/or stuffed with banana, butterscotch, or chocolate), and we're not sure which we're supposed to choose.

And Heaven Forbid Anyone Who Works Here Help Us With This Decision

In what proves to be a fatal mistake, Vodka orders the mac and cheese pancakes for herself and leaves the task of ordering the ebelskivers to Ginger, who completely butchers the operation.  When her request for a combination of the "stuffed" ebelskivers falls of deaf ears, she is forced to choose a flavor.  First, Ginger asks what the waiter would recommend.  He stares at her blankly.  Then Vodka, who doesn't remember hearing of any flavored fillings mentioned on the Best Thing I Ever Ate episode, begins advocating for the plain, cinnamon variety, and Ginger is having none of it.

"I'll take the chocolate chip version," Ginger orders.

"What?!  No!" Vodka interjects.  As she pleads her case for the traditional variety, our waiter pipes in to ask her, "What, is it going to ruin your diet?"  Quiet, buddy, we've got Best Thing I Ever Ate arguments to contend with.

And Did You Not Just Hear Vodka Order These Saucers of Health Food?!

"Okay, fine, we'll take banana," Ginger tells him with exasperation, and he scurries away just as Vodka shoots Ginger a fatal glare.

"Banana?!  We HATE banana!"

"I love banana!"

"Remember those horrible banana-cream filled doughnuts at the Atlantic City Buddakan?"

"Well, I love banana except for that one time."  With that, Vodka pouts and continues her personal quest to get us kicked out of the establishment by photographing our beverages, a practice that Ginger is, once again, insisting is not allowed at Shopsin's.

Not Good to the Last Drop

Vodka ignores these pleas for decorum, and really, how are we supposed to document our Best Thing I Ever Ate eating adventures if culinary photographs are not allowed on the premises?!

"You need to take pictures more stealthily," Ginger hisses again.

"WHO is going to kick us out?" Vodka, still believing this rumor of excommunication is some kind of urban myth, asks her.

Cause If It's the Same People Who Think This Is "Graphic Design," Vodka's Not Afraid

"They're all one family," Ginger whispers.  "The waiter and that guy in the back."  Vodka turns around and sees no such Wizard of Oz-type character, so she continues her photographic pursuit when our mac and cheese pancakes arrive.

And This Is the "Small" Option

When she has finished, the three of us dive into the platter, finding three large patties of pancake-shaped mac and cheese stacked next to containers of maple syrup and hot sauce.  Distributing the two condiments heavily onto the plate, we find the pancakes comforting and hearty, especially when combined with the sweet and spicy tang of the syrup and sauce (even though the hot sauce itself seems overrun with pepper and is thus burning our mouths).

Hot Sauce and Maple Syrup Straight Out of Alice in Wonderland

If anything, the pancakes could use more mac and cheese itself, as the pasta seems concentrated in the center of the cakes.  Still, they are a beacon of hope for the rest of the meal.

A Very Faint Beacon, But A Beacon Nonetheless

Just as we finish the pancakes, our friend's dish arrives, which Vodka snatches from her almost before the waiter has placed it on the table in order to obtain photographic evidence.

Okay... the Umbrella... Somebody PLEASE Explain the Umbrella...

"Our waiter probably thinks you're some kind of crazy control freak," Ginger murmurs.  "Between the ebelskivers confrontation and the grabbing of the plates."

"I appreciate you saying that as if I am NOT a crazy control freak," Vodka states, allowing our friend to eat her own dish only after enough pictures have been snapped.  She had chosen the Strider, which is a breakfast sandwich featuring maple veggie sausage, eggs, and avocado on an English muffin.  Deciding she can't possibly eat the monstrosity in sandwich form, our friend begins to pick at it with a fork and finds it delicious (though Ginger is mostly taken with the veggie sausage, and Vodka finds the whole thing bland and in desperate need of salt).

"I Can't Eat This Like a Sandwich." "You Eat It Like a Fork."

Finally, our plate of ebelskivers arrives, complete with a heaping bowl of whipped cream in the middle.  As Vodka had predicted, they look suspiciously like the Buddakan donuts, though we can't yet tell if this comparison is true by taste.  As it happens, these ebelskivers are so unbearably hot that they end up scalding our mouths and throats rather than coating them with cinnamon and banana goodness.

REBELskivers Is More Like It

We eventually show some self-control to hold off on taking a second bite until they cool slightly, and we are only mildly less underwhelmed with the lukewarm version.  While the taste of the ebelskivers is not bad, it is their texture that leaves much to be desired.  We are used to bouyant, chewy doughnuts, and these are so doughy that we can barely hold them within two fingers (probably partly the banana's fault.  Thanks Ginger).  The accompanying whipped cream is barely sweet and adds next to nothing to the flavor of the dish, which is even more disappointing since we normally believe whipped cream should be its own food group.  All in all, the ebelskivers need more "bounce," and our friend correctly summarizes that they taste like banana pancakes in the wrong shape.

Vodka Rests Her Case: We HATE Banana

As we are getting ready to leave, Ginger spots the owner of Shopsin's finally stationed in his chair in the back.  "That's the dictator," she tells Vodka.  "You two could have it out."

And though Vodka might understand the mentality of such "crazy control freaks" as herself, it seems Mr. Shopsin has recently grown as soft as his ebelskivers, for we pay the bill and waltz away with not so much as a grimace about our disobedient behavior.

Shopsin's Ebelskivers: 3 stars

Look Who Just Fell Off the Turnip Truck

Tiger Shrimp and Roasted Garlic Corn Tamales -- Mesa Grill
Mesa Grill

"I got lost," Vodka confesses to Ginger, plopping her stuff upon our table at Mesa Grill.  "I was trying to dine at the deli across the street."

Which, For the Record, Does Not Serve Tamales

With nary a reaction to Vodka's inability to navigate Fiftth Avenue, Ginger states, "I'm wearing my hunting outfit."

"Your what?!" Vodka looks at Ginger's camouflage-free outfit quizzically.

"Hunting outfit," Ginger points to the down vest piled up next to her.  "See, I didn't know what to wear, because my friend invited me to the Rangers game after this (so, by the way, the first thing I had to do was Google what sport the Rangers play), and I didn't know what clothes would fit in at Mesa Grill AND Madison Square Garden."

"So you settled on 'hunting'?"

"And the best part is, when I came in, the host asked, 'Can I check your -- ?' and then he didn't know what to call this thing," Ginger says, gesturing to her vest.  By this point, we are so taken with our own idiocy that we can barely concentrate on our waiter's delivery of Ginger's cactus pear margarita.

Pretty in Pink

As Vodka dives in to take a sip in order to see if she wishes to drink the same thing, the waiter pipes in, "It might be too tart for you."  Apparently, this waiter (aptly named 'Bobby,' though unfortunately not 'Flay') doubles as a cocktail taste soothsayer in his spare time.

For His Next Trick, He Will Make Both Margaritas Disappear

"Ugh, no!" Vodka practically spits her mouthful back into Ginger's glass and orders a regular (some would say 'boring') margarita without salt.  We also decide to split the Rough Cut Tuna Nachos, the Cremini Mushroom Quesadilla, and, as Michael Symon had recommended on the LAS VEGAS episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate, the Tiger Shrimp and Roasted Garlic Corn Tamales.

Honestly, We Were Expecting More of a Red Hot-Like Candy When We Heard 'Hot Tamales'

As we wait, Ginger reveals that while Vodka was wandering aimlessly on the wrong side of Fifth Avenue, a busboy had filled the water glass at Vodka's place, only to be reprimanded by our non-Flay Bobby waiter and forced to take it away until Vodka had arrived.  This policy strikes us as a colossal waste of both water and energy -- after all, what is going to happen to the water until Vodka arrives?!  The ice is going to melt and it will become "watery"?

If You'd Like to Inexplicably Refill This Glass, However, We Won't Object

When our bread basket arrives, we begin to realize that the waitstaff and busboys at Mesa Grill have been given a variety of such "misguided" (Ginger's favorite word) instructions: small plates are laid out and then taken away at rapid fire pace, and we can barely finish an item before it is swiped off of our table (when non-Flay Bobby does this to Ginger's barely full margarita glass later on, she gives him a look that can only be described as a "hostile snarl").

Don't Mess with Our Cocktails or Our Carbs

Additionally, our water glasses are refilled practically every time we take a sip, yet ironically, when we finally finish our meal, there is not a staff person in sight to bring us the check.  The whole service, overall, is a vision of inconsistent spastic-ness.

The Waitstaff Has Been Chewing on Too Many Hot Peppers in the Kitchen. The Spice Going To Their Heads

Thankfully, though, we have the bread basket to distract us from the frenetic energy around us, and it is a Scarpetta-like work of art.  Our favorite variety is a soft, salty, rosemary loaf of the most ideal texture imaginable, though the corn muffin and sourdough-like versions are also quite good, especially when laden with soft butter (of which plenty was provided).

Blue Moon Over Mexico

After the bread basket alone, we are convinced that we are in 5-star territory, no matter what the corn tamales taste like.

Though They Better Be Good - We're Not THAT Generous

At this point, Ginger starts looking towards the ceiling in an accusatory way, glaring at the hearty breeze that is hitting us every few seconds.  "That is a very aggressive fan," she states, and Vodka then becomes too busy trying to take pictures of the air circulating monstrosity to notice when our "entrees" arrive.

Now We Have It Out for Restaurant Cooling Systems, Too

First up, the Best Thing I Ever Ate tamales -- the corn mixture itself is stuffed into a corn husk with grilled shrimp and cilantro sauce drizzled over the top and spilling out.

Let's Just Ignore That Pesky Overgrown Greenery and Concentrate on the Important Stuff

At first, we're afraid that we're going to find the sweetness of the tamale off-putting against the savory shrimp, but the flavors meld together much more successfully than we had imagined.

Hey, Who You Callin' a Corny Shrimp?

However, these tamales do not hold a candle to what we actually would have chosen (along with the bread basket) as the Best Thing I Ever Ate dish of the night, the quesadilla.

Not Your Grandmother's Applebee's Appetizer

While the tamales are good -- certainly good -- they are a mere afterthought when it comes to the quesadilla dish.  Two fried tortillas stand stuffed with cheese and hearty mushrooms, topped by a fried egg (which Ginger is initially timid about but comes to find delectable) and healthy smotherings of ricotta and salsa verde.

Again with the Huge Sprig of Greenery, Flay?

Within one bite, we are obsessed, and while we came to Mesa Grill for the tamales, we are certainly staying for the quesadilla.

Or Two or Three

The only slightly disappointing dish among our three is the plate of nachos.  We had ordered them mostly because we had just been bemoaning the fate of Craftsteak and their version of nachos, which had been featured on the Best Thing I Ever Ate SNACK ATTACK episode, and which we will never get to try.  We had therefore chosen Mesa Grill's nachos option only because we wanted a large pile of crunchy chips coated in cheese and beans and guacamole.  Instead, we receive a plate of fresh tuna tartare with mango-habanero hot sauce and avocado crema, and a dainty bowl of fried chips on the side.

Not exactly our nacho ideal.

Ummm, We're Sorry... What Is This?!

The tuna itself is tasty enough, though if it had even a smattering more of  habanero spice, we probably would not have been able to consume it.

What Part of This Plate Spells 'Nachos' to You?

The chips are barely large enough to support the chunks of tuna (especially when the frantic busboys take away our bowl before we've even finished), and overall, these "nachos" (if we can even call them that) are just not what we wanted.

Somebody Pass the Tostitos, Please

Depriving ourselves of a second margarita, we instead decide to order dessert and ask non-Flay Bobby what he would recommend.  When he describes our first choice, the apple pie sundae, as being on the small side ("So we'd be sad, is what you're saying?" Ginger interprets), we settle on the chocolate bread pudding, mostly because Ginger is dying to shove toasted bourbon marshmallows in her mouth.

And Also Because It Contains the Word 'Bread'

The dessert proves to be fine, if entirely too chocolatey and too little whipped creamy for Vodka's tastes, but overall, we are satisfied.

Yet Unfortunately, We Are Not Drunk Off of the Marshmallows

And then we leave the place, and we officially fall off of our own proverbial turnip truck.

We are tasked with the goal of walking three blocks -- together -- to the subway.  Two blocks in, we find ourselves inexplicably separated, when mere seconds before, we had been walking next to each other.

How?!

To this day, it remains a nonsensical mystery how we ended up walking down opposite sides of 14th Street, having to resort to using our cell phones in order to find each other.  As we eventually navigate to our train, two figurative hillbillies making their way through the big city, Ginger's hunting outfit has suddenly never seemed more appropriate.

Mesa Grill's Tiger Shrimp and Roasted Garlic Corn Tamales: 5 stars*

*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate

Doesn't 'Suenos' Mean Tired?!

Chile Mecco Relleno -- Suenos
Suenos

As a testament to her great Spanish language skills, Vodka has been mulling one thing over for the majority of her trek to Suenos: why would anyone name their restaurant "Tired"?!

Upon Ginger's arrival, Vodka poses her question. Ginger (who usually suffers from similar Spanish-induced confusion), tells her that the word actually means "Dreams."  So much for six years worth of Spanish instruction.

Hola, Me Llamo Estupida

We have managed to wrangle our Booze Before Books club members to Suenos despite the noise/taste fail of our last Best Thing I Ever Ate outing at Barbuto.  As our one dear friend kindly reminds us,  "Well, last time you took us to that dumb chicken place."  We're sure Jonathan Waxman would be appropriately horrified by both us and the company we keep.

And We'd Really Like to Know the Last Time Mr. Waxman's Establishment Has Been Called "That Dumb Chicken Place"

To Suenos's credit, it is significantly quieter than Barbuto, meaning we would have been able to discuss our book club choice (Mindy Kaling's memoir) had we ever actually used our "meetings" for such literary purposes.  The decor of this place is remarkably odd, featuring a gigantic diorama of a desert, seemingly straight out of the Museum of Natural History.  It appears to us to be both random and a giant waste of space.

A Bar Expansion Would Have Been a More Suitable Architectural Choice

While we are here to consume Aaron Sanchez's Best Thing I Ever Ate AS GOOD AS MOM'S dish, the chile mecco relleno, we are first in dire need of chips and salsa and a round of margaritas, immediately if not sooner. The two of us order the Real Deal margaritas (a name that is cause for "Who's on First?"-level confusion throughout the evening), while our friends go with red sangria (clearly, they're trying to distance themselves from us).  The margaritas start out fine yet are completely watery by the bottom of the glasses (perhaps we are slow drinkers, or perhaps the margaritas are not quite strong enough), and frankly, Bethenny's Skinnygirl versions are ten times better.

Plus, this Glassware Is Boring. Just Sayin'

As we dive ravenously into our basket of chips (an amount that Ginger mocks when they first arrive, until we devour them all within minutes), our waiter, who we have taken to calling "Danny Zuko" based on his pompadour hairstyle, comes by to take our orders.

"We'll ask Danny Zuko which salsa is the least spicy for the enchiladas," Ginger whispers to Vodka.

"How did you learn his last name?!" our friend interjects, completely incredulous.  We stare at her blankly.

"Danny Zuko?" we repeat.

"Yeah, how do you already know his name?!"

"IT'S FROM GREASE."  By this point, Danny himself is hovering over us, so we shut up about our friend's lack of "Greased Lightning" knowledge.

And to His Credit, Danny Zuko Does Not Comment About How Our Chips Have Gone from This...

...to This in Five Minutes Flat

Vodka and Ginger decide to split the chile mecco relleno, along with the organic children enchiladas with salsa verde (which Danny Zuko confirms is the least hot of the three salsa choices).  As we wait for our food, the sudden inability to understand snarkiness begins spreading around the table, as our friend states that someone has "completely disappeared and joined the CIA."

"How do you just up and join the CIA?!  It's not a club!" Ginger retorts.

"He did not literally join the CIA," our friend explains gently.  Apparently, all of the comic memoirs we're reading for book club are doing nothing for our ability to understand sarcasm tonight.

The Chips Must Be Impacting the Cynical Sides of Our Brains

Danny Zuko eventually escorts our dinners to the table, which include a trio of enchiladas (our salsa verde version, plus one salsa ranchero and one mole).  A great display of confusion ensues when Vodka is insistent on photographing the three plates together mid-service, leaving Danny Zuko and the busboys shaking their heads in despair.

One Little, Two Little, Three Little Enchiladas

Vodka and Ginger dive into the the chile mecco relleno, which consists of pork, black currants, pine nuts, and almonds.  Shaped like corn dogs, they do not appear to be fried, as the only crunchy texture comes from the nuts inside of the chile.

From This Angle, They Have the Decided Look of Overgrown Chicken Nuggets

The meat itself tastes decidedly like short ribs and has a mildly smokey flavor with a hint of sweetness from the currants.  The plate features a sparse garnish of white sauce, pickled onions, and greens, but the pork itself is rather dry.

Please, Sir, We'd Like Some More Sauce

Whatever chile this chile relleno began with is unidentifiable both in taste and texture and is completely overwhelmed by the pork filling.  Within two bites, Vodka takes one look at Ginger and says, "Three?"

"Three," Ginger confirms our star rating, and we plow through the rest of the dish with neither enthusiasm nor disgust.

Instead, We Resort to Our Normal Attitude: Apathy

As we had initially feared the choice would be scalding hot based on Aaron Sanchez's tastes (and the word "chile" in its name), we thankfully find only the linger of spice at the end of each bite.  Overall, the dish is completely innocuous if unremarkable, and since neither of our mothers is one to whip up chile mecco rellenos in our childhood kitchens, we have no basis of comparison for Aaron's AS GOOD AS MOM'S verdict.

Now If This Had Been a Pierogie, We'd Have Another Story on Our Hands

Moving on to our enchiladas, they are, in a word, cold -- spicy, but cold (perhaps Danny Zuko misunderstood our question about the least "hot" salsa).  They taste like they have been sitting out for a long period of time before service.

Hey Suenos, Ever Hear of Cooking Things to Order?

The shredded chicken is rather flavorless, wrapped up all alone in a frigid white tortilla with barely a smattering of cheese.  Our other friends with enchiladas are similarly underwhelmed, and none of us finish our plates.

Thus Rendering the Triplet Enchilada Picture Useless

Our non-Grease-loving friend's cheese quesadillas prove to be the best choice of the night, along with the complimentary plate of black beans and corn bread triangles (which Ginger is insistent on mopping up with her fork once the corn bread has dissipated).

That's an Appealingly Shaped Avocado You've Got There....

Never a Good Sign When the Free Dish is The Best Offering

In the end, Suenos is just not the stuff of Booze Before Books's dreams; perhaps the owners should have stuck with Vodka's original translation and just named the place "Cansada."

Suenos's Chile Mecco Relleno: 3 stars