Last night Don and I went on a date! (See, the americanisms are creeping in already – and I almost put my full-stop inside the bracket … at least I am not calling it a period).
It’s been a particularly hellish week for both of us, although much more hellish for Don, who has been working until 11pm each night. Mine has been more mentally hellish – but more about that later.
Anyways, we decided it was about time to revist the flying fajita sisters after our experience with the worst service ever.
The food, as last visit, was brilliant.
And the service?
Simply. Fantastic.
Really! Not even fantastic in comparison to the last visit, just what I like – attentive and friendly, but knowing when to (hold ’em and fold em and) leave you (’em) alone.
Americans in Aus complain endlessly about the lack of decent Mexican (olde El Paso not really cutting it). If this (and Guzman y Gomez) is a taste, I really want to get me there and sample The Real Stuff.
Oh, I know, my husband is always on about it. We have a Guzman y Gomez near us and it’s great – but he really likes Azteca’s, in Randwick, which he says is really authentic.When we go to LA we always have to stop at roadside taco vans which look incredibly unhygienic to me but he swears they provide the best Mexican food ever. I wouldn’t know because I refuse to participate, apparently demonstrating my Australian-Old El Paso-ishness thereby.
Oh! I really must make a note to get to Azteca’s – the more authentic the better, I think.I hear about those vans too! I actually can’t wait to try them in all of their unhygenic wonderfulness (although I’m sure I have very romantic notions, and when confronted with, you know, actual reality, I will in all probability blanch a wee bit)