 |
| Bet You Didn't See That One Coming |
But we're getting ahead of ourselves.
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| And Yes, We Promise That Our Liquor Comrades Were Not the Cause of Our Sudden Sickness |
Vodka
has made her inaugural journey to the great state of Texas to visit
Dallas with her college roommates, Diet Coke and Whiskey Sour.
 |
| Taking In Some of Dallas's Uplifting Assassination Sites |
While
Diet Coke's plane remains suspended in air somewhere over the Midwest,
Vodka and Whiskey Sour venture to the Highland Park neighborhood to eat a
pecan ball, as chosen by Kerry Vincent on the ICE CREAMY episode of
Best Thing I Ever Ate.
 |
| What's Black and White and Sweet All Over? |
But not before Vodka has an epic fight with the manager at Mi Cocina, the Mexican joint across the
parking lot. You can take the girl out of Manhattan, but you can't take
the customer service hostility out of the girl.
 |
| In Retrospect, Perhaps We Shouldn't Have Eaten the Whole Thing |
Mi Cocina
is relevant to this post mostly because we found the entire experience
so stressful that by the time we arrive at Cafe Pacific, our frazzled,
travel-weary nerves are hovering on the edge.
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| Window View of the Scene of the Crime |
Because of this, the
quiet, inviting atmosphere of the establishment's old-fashioned decor is
found to be especially favorable, as is the exceptionally congenial
bartender.
 |
| Fill 'Er Up, We'll Take a Glass of Everything |
With the kitchen about to close, he asks if we would like any
food, for which we request one pecan ball and two glasses of wine.
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| Generous Pours to Suit Our Moods |
Within
moments, we are exceedingly more relaxed and ready to dive into the
solid helping of dessert placed before us.
 |
| Hello, Gorgeous |
The pecan ball itself
consists of vanilla ice cream rolled in pecans and topped by chocolate
sauce, whipped cream, and brittle. And it is good. Very, very good.
 |
| We're Not Usually Nuts-In-Desserts Type of Girls, But We'll Make an Exception Here |
Each
component works together perfectly in enhancing the others, and Whiskey
Sour, who gave up sweets for Lent (apparently in her interpretation,
Lent does not extend into the Texas border), finds it especially
remarkable (perhaps because she hasn't had a touch of sugar in weeks).
 |
| Forbidden Fruit |
By
the time we have finished, the pecan ball is little more than a slushy
soup coating the bottom of the plate, for which the bartender asks if we
would like straws to sop it up.
 |
| We Have Found Our People |
As the evening proceeds, we suddenly
realize that we are single-handedly closing the joint, but rather than
being annoyed by our presence, the staff keeps multiplying behind the
bar to engage with the very full and mildly drunk northeasterners.
 |
| Drunk on Chocolate Fudge, but Drunk Nonetheless |
In
other words, we leave Cafe Pacific extremely taken with the place. And
then we return to our hotel room and promptly vomit.
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| Thanks for the Warm Welcome, Dallas |
Now,
we are blaming this turn of events on Mi Cocina and the two plates
(each) of Mexican delicacies we consumed before the beloved pecan ball
-- after all, who ever heard of ice cream resulting in food poisoning?
Plus, while at Cafe Pacific, when Vodka asked our BFF, the bartender, if
he ever frequented Mi Cocina, his response was, "Not very often,"
which pretty much tells us all we need to know.
 |
| We'll Never Look at Tex-Mex Quite the Same Way |
And
so, while in the opening joust between Dallas and Vodka, the city may
think it has gained the upper-hand, we refuse to be taken out so easily.
So bring it on, Texas, because a thrown-up pecan ball in the evening
never scared us away. And now you know who not to mess with.
Cafe Pacific's Pecan Ball: 4 stars
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