Chicago Realtor Searches for (Edible) Mexican Food in Paris
It may seem strange, what I say next, but you wouldn’t believe how hard it was to find a good Mexican place in Paris.
Truth be told, on a two-week sojourn from Chicago, you wouldn’t believe how hard it was to find any Mexican place in Paris.
Then again, maybe you would.
First things first, the food we sampled was outstanding. Across the board, where ever we went we went with culinary glee, savoring the profoundly delicious fare before us. But at the end of the day any trip from our Chicago hometown demands touching base with one of our staples, Mexican food.
But the collision of Christmas with a simple paucity of Mexican places had us traipsing from one end to the other of Boulevard Saint Germain and its adjacent nooks and crannies. We did find one place by happen chance but politely excused ourselves after the saltiness of the chips prompted our tongues to thirstily enlarge down our gullets, making breathing and swallowing momentarily problematic.
So we paid 20 euros for the brief moment of dashed hope and continued our chilly path forward, unknowingly tilting through Paris like a modern-day Don Quixote in search of edible Mexican. The next day the urge for Mexican flourished again in the early evening and we zigged and zagged finding cerrado on the doors of the first two places that had been touted in our google searches.
Edging in the direction of our Marais home our efforts found an open place that we swung into with the desire of sailors new to the shore after a lengthy stint at sea. But under the category of “be careful what you pray for” we noticed that the restaurant was equipped with nothing but microwaves and all of the food was plastic wrapped, of a type typically found on dusty shelves in lonely gas stations on desolate stretches of highway.
And then we looked up and the guy from the salty chip place from the day before came through the front door wearing an oversized sombrero to pick up chips for his sister restaurant. Clearly the gods were speaking, telling us to vamoose!
And so we did. Good thing too, because when we least expected it our path merged with what we had been seeking – a Mexican restaurant with honest to goodness Mexican food that was not only edible but also deliciosa! Anahuacalli, in the Latin Quarter a few minutes shy of our condo, more than satisfied our needed and desired temporary diversion from the hearty offerings of the bistros and such.
By the way, a few days before our return to Chicago, and after our lengthy Parisian walks seeking Mexican, Nicole had the amazing foresight to go online and place an order with a place in Lubbock to airlift a few dozen tamales that greeted us upon our return to our Edgewater home. And so after an 8-hour transcontinental flight we arrived to the comfort of our Chicago home to enjoy something apparently foreign to Paris – tamales that make your brain explode for sheer pleasure and delight.
Ah, it tastes good to be back home again.
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Anahuacalli sounds Delicious. Did you go for the Filete Moctezuma??