After a brief nap in our room, (too brief, really) we decided to walk down to our choice for dinner that evening - El Cid.
I need to explain a little about how our trips are usually organized:
1. We agree on a destination.
2. We agree on a time.
3. I get the plane reservations.
4. Doreen does everything else. (Hotel, restaurant, museum, shows, entertainment, you name it)
But for this trip, for some reason I was left (for the most part) in charge of restaurants.
This one didn't really turn out great.
It was only about a mile from the hotel, but it was dark. And the street we had to walk down was almost completely empty. In the middle of Mexico City! Now, it felt just a little uncomfortable, but we got to the place fine.
I chose El Cid because they offered Lechon, or suckling pig. (there is a much longer story here about suckling pig that involves Alex Jordan, Segovia, and kidney stones. But we don't need to get into that)
The place bills itself as a "medieval" restaurant, and they have "medieval" meals nightly. That is not what we chose.
We started with Sopa de Ajo, and then moved onto the Lechon:
It was fine, don't get me wrong. And we had a nice bottle of Spanish red to go with it. But nothing to write in your blog about.
The real show was downstairs, where the medieval meal was starting. They had jugglers, magicians, Lords and Ladies. It was fun to watch from above. We sat around there for a couple of hours.
But when it was over, Doreen (who really had done some work on this trip) suggested we go and get churros (fried dough) and hot chocolate at a "churreria" (Churro Shop) called El Moro.
(I liked the juxtaposition of El Cid to El Moro. Nice in a historical context)
It was a short walk directly to El Moro, but we decided to walk down to the Alameda Park on our way. (More light)
There were plenty of buskers on the wide sidewalks around the park. One was a clown, who saw me walking by (he had a large crowd) Called out to me:
"Do you speak Spanish?"
"Yes, a little."
"Me, I speak a lot! (much laughter)
"Where are you from"
"Texas!"
"Paisano!" (countryman)
he then teased a little more, asked my name, and asked Doreen if she spoke Spanish.
She said no, and he asked her to go to the center of the crowd.
That is when I walked away - I don't mind them making fun of me (I often get hoisted on my own petard that way) but I didn't want to have him teasing Doreen.
But we did make it down to El Moro.
And what a sight it was! First, as we were walking to the shop, there was a line, probably 50 people long in front of the place!
Yipes. I don't like lines.
But luckily, the line was for the taco chop next door (and they did look delicious)
The line for churros and hot chocolate was much more chaotic.
There were probably 30 tables in the place, every one of them occupied. There were probably 15 people waiting to sit.
Rather than have a line where you sign up, what you did was just stand over the table you thought would be leaving soon. No sharing tables, either!
But we did get to sit down, and our choice really came down to churros (of course) and what sort of hot chocolate you wanted.
They had Special, Spanish, French, and Mexican.
Whenever I have a choice like that I will almost always take the Special. Because of its name, it must be, right?
But Doreen had in mind exactly what she wanted - the thick, rich, and sweet hot chocolate we have only had once before - and that was in Paris at the Marche aux Puces on a cold December day.
Interestingly, when we asked which of the chocolates was the strongest (el mas fuerte) we were told the Spanish.
So we got eight churros, one special and one Spanish hot chocolate.
The place was really hopping, even this late at night (I think it was about 11:00 PM or so). Mostly families, occasionally young couples on dates. I think we were the only gringos there.
When the drinks and treats came, we were not disappointed. The chocolate was thick and rich (Doreen's thicker and richer than mine, though I was very happy with my selection) and the churros were hot and covered with sugar and cinnamon.
It was a great way to end the night - which was a lot of fun in spite of the lackluster food at El Cid. The entertainment there was worth it.
I need to explain a little about how our trips are usually organized:
1. We agree on a destination.
2. We agree on a time.
3. I get the plane reservations.
4. Doreen does everything else. (Hotel, restaurant, museum, shows, entertainment, you name it)
But for this trip, for some reason I was left (for the most part) in charge of restaurants.
This one didn't really turn out great.
It was only about a mile from the hotel, but it was dark. And the street we had to walk down was almost completely empty. In the middle of Mexico City! Now, it felt just a little uncomfortable, but we got to the place fine.
I chose El Cid because they offered Lechon, or suckling pig. (there is a much longer story here about suckling pig that involves Alex Jordan, Segovia, and kidney stones. But we don't need to get into that)
The place bills itself as a "medieval" restaurant, and they have "medieval" meals nightly. That is not what we chose.
We started with Sopa de Ajo, and then moved onto the Lechon:
It was fine, don't get me wrong. And we had a nice bottle of Spanish red to go with it. But nothing to write in your blog about.
The real show was downstairs, where the medieval meal was starting. They had jugglers, magicians, Lords and Ladies. It was fun to watch from above. We sat around there for a couple of hours.
But when it was over, Doreen (who really had done some work on this trip) suggested we go and get churros (fried dough) and hot chocolate at a "churreria" (Churro Shop) called El Moro.
(I liked the juxtaposition of El Cid to El Moro. Nice in a historical context)
It was a short walk directly to El Moro, but we decided to walk down to the Alameda Park on our way. (More light)
There were plenty of buskers on the wide sidewalks around the park. One was a clown, who saw me walking by (he had a large crowd) Called out to me:
"Do you speak Spanish?"
"Yes, a little."
"Me, I speak a lot! (much laughter)
"Where are you from"
"Texas!"
"Paisano!" (countryman)
he then teased a little more, asked my name, and asked Doreen if she spoke Spanish.
She said no, and he asked her to go to the center of the crowd.
That is when I walked away - I don't mind them making fun of me (I often get hoisted on my own petard that way) but I didn't want to have him teasing Doreen.
But we did make it down to El Moro.
And what a sight it was! First, as we were walking to the shop, there was a line, probably 50 people long in front of the place!
Yipes. I don't like lines.
But luckily, the line was for the taco chop next door (and they did look delicious)
The line for churros and hot chocolate was much more chaotic.
There were probably 30 tables in the place, every one of them occupied. There were probably 15 people waiting to sit.
Rather than have a line where you sign up, what you did was just stand over the table you thought would be leaving soon. No sharing tables, either!
They had Special, Spanish, French, and Mexican.
Whenever I have a choice like that I will almost always take the Special. Because of its name, it must be, right?
But Doreen had in mind exactly what she wanted - the thick, rich, and sweet hot chocolate we have only had once before - and that was in Paris at the Marche aux Puces on a cold December day.
Interestingly, when we asked which of the chocolates was the strongest (el mas fuerte) we were told the Spanish.
The place was really hopping, even this late at night (I think it was about 11:00 PM or so). Mostly families, occasionally young couples on dates. I think we were the only gringos there.
When the drinks and treats came, we were not disappointed. The chocolate was thick and rich (Doreen's thicker and richer than mine, though I was very happy with my selection) and the churros were hot and covered with sugar and cinnamon.
It was a great way to end the night - which was a lot of fun in spite of the lackluster food at El Cid. The entertainment there was worth it.
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