1. It was expensive. $2.50 a taco is highway robbery.
2. No brown people were eating there.
3. The carne asada had sautéed bell peppers and onions in it. That’s not carne asada, that’s fajitas. It’s also just gross.
4. I’m pretty sure the refried beans came from a can.
5. Their table salsa looked like tortilla soup.
6. The line of white people in professional office attire actually went out the door at one point. There are four taco shacks on that block and all of the white folks chose that one. Bad.
7. Their fountain didn’t work.
8. Dave was ashamed of himself after seeing all of those white bankers lining up for fajitas.
Grade : D-
-TTIN attempt #2:
Las Maracas at
I don’t think I mentioned this before, but this series of tests is based solely on carne asada tacos. It’s the only thing we can order from these places until we’ve had the carne asada at every taco shack within walking distance of our office. And there are lots of them. I wanted to order an enchilada today, but remembered that it wouldn’t make sense to compare enchiladas and tacos. They’re like apples and oranges.
Okay, so now that that’s out of the way I’d like to tell you about my new favorite restaurant, Las Maracas. We chose Las Maracas today because it has a bar in it and Dave and I needed an afternoon beer. The place was filled with Mexicans, which is always a good sign. Futbol en Espanol was on all of the televisions and the jukebox was playing some mariachi jams while a drunken patron stared at it and pushed buttons. Do I need to go on? I know that I don’t, but I will because I like telling stories about tacos.
1. We ordered our taco plates and, to our surprise, it came with soup. Score one for Las Maracas. I love soup! It was mystery soup, which means I could recognize some of the ingredients, but not all of them. I’m certain I saw some onions and potatoes, but there were these little white squares floating in them that could have either been brains, tofu or bizarro cheese that didn’t melt. I don’t care what it was, it was tasty and I ate it all.
2. Our tacos arrived and to my delight there were tomatoes and avocado on them, in addition to the usual onion/cilantro mixture. It’s like they knew I was coming.
3. The drunk dude standing by the jukebox proceeded to get so drunk that he started hitting on the waitresses even though he could barely stand up. I think he bought one of them a rose from one of the wandering Mexican ladies that walks around the streets and inside restaurants selling single roses.
4. After I finished eating I used the sink in the ladies room to wash the taco smell off of my hands. When I came out of there ol’ drunkie made eye contact with me with his bloodshot eyes and said “how you doin’ baby?” AWESOME. This place gets an A just for that. I love when dudes are blacked out before 2pm.
5. At some point a tranny stuck his/her butt into the restaurant. She didn’t walk in, she just bent over and stuck her butt in and then continued on her way. Tranny butt.
6. Aside from our waitress asking us what we wanted, and ol’ drunkie’s come-on, I didn’t hear one word of English.
7. The only thing even remotely negative was their weak table salsa and their rice that looked like it may have been exposed to some sort of radiation. I’m pretty sure it glowed in the dark. And right now it’s lighting up my belly! WOCKA WOCKA.