Xango Tango
Saturday, after the birthday party, Boolah, Fitch, Tate, and myself went to Flora to El Parasio for a bite to eat. El Parasio is an authenic Mexican joint run by authentic Mexicans, and something of a go to place to eat when we're in Flora. We get inside, and we're looking at the dry erase board on the wall, which contains the days specials. The board says, "New Dessert! Xango-$3.50!" Boolah says to me, "Hey Joe, those Xangos are just like the Apple Chimichanga at Applebees." To which I reply, "Yeah, I know. You mentioned it last time we were here."
Now, an Apple Chimichanga is indeed a scrumdiddlyumptuous dessert. It's apples and cheese cakey filling wrapped in a thin pastry and covered in cinammon and sugar. Most places also serve it with ice cream and caramel. Parasio serves it with ice cream, caramel, chocolate syrup, and whipped cream. But no matter how enticing a "Xango" sounded to me, I had one thing on my mind, and that was flan. So, while Boolah's thinking, "Xango. Xango. Xango." I'm thinking, "Flan. Flan. Boobies. Flan."
We get sat down. We eat. All is right with the world. The waiter comes over to see if we need anything else. Boolah orders his Xango. Now, remember the part where I said the place was run by authentic Mexicans? Boolah goes, "I'd like a Xango, and don't put any of the ice cream or whip cream or chocolate syrup on it, okay?" The waiter goes, "You want a Sopapilla?" Uh-oh. Boolah doesn't want a sopapilla, that's an entirely different dessert. Wonder if Boolah caught it? "Yeah, that's what I want," Boolah says. The waiter and Boolah continue trying to figure out what the hell they are each talking about, and when everyone is satisfied that things have turned out properly, I order my flan and Fitch orders a Fried Ice Cream. The waiter leaves, and I immediately go, "Dude, you do realize that you're probably not getting what you ordered, right?" Boolah, looking vaguely dejected replies, "Yeah, we'll see."
So, our Desserts arrive. I get my flan, Fitch gets his fried ice cream, and Boolah gets a Fried Tortilla shell, covered in Butter, Cinammon, and Sugar, drizzled in Caramel and Chocolate, served ala mode with mounds of Whipped Cream. Yep, Boolah not only got a Sopapilla, but he also got a sopapilla with all of the stuff on it that he didn't want on the Xango.
What did Boolah do wrong? Well, kiddies, he violated the first two rules of eating at an ethnic establishment where the staff has a limited grasp of English. Rule #1: Always make sure the waiter knows exactly what you want. If the waiter looks confused or repeats something alot, you're in trouble. It's best to have a menu handy so you can point to what you want while you're saying it. Rule #2: Never try to get a custom order. It's a waste of time. So, now you know, and knowing's half the battle.
Now, an Apple Chimichanga is indeed a scrumdiddlyumptuous dessert. It's apples and cheese cakey filling wrapped in a thin pastry and covered in cinammon and sugar. Most places also serve it with ice cream and caramel. Parasio serves it with ice cream, caramel, chocolate syrup, and whipped cream. But no matter how enticing a "Xango" sounded to me, I had one thing on my mind, and that was flan. So, while Boolah's thinking, "Xango. Xango. Xango." I'm thinking, "Flan. Flan. Boobies. Flan."
We get sat down. We eat. All is right with the world. The waiter comes over to see if we need anything else. Boolah orders his Xango. Now, remember the part where I said the place was run by authentic Mexicans? Boolah goes, "I'd like a Xango, and don't put any of the ice cream or whip cream or chocolate syrup on it, okay?" The waiter goes, "You want a Sopapilla?" Uh-oh. Boolah doesn't want a sopapilla, that's an entirely different dessert. Wonder if Boolah caught it? "Yeah, that's what I want," Boolah says. The waiter and Boolah continue trying to figure out what the hell they are each talking about, and when everyone is satisfied that things have turned out properly, I order my flan and Fitch orders a Fried Ice Cream. The waiter leaves, and I immediately go, "Dude, you do realize that you're probably not getting what you ordered, right?" Boolah, looking vaguely dejected replies, "Yeah, we'll see."
So, our Desserts arrive. I get my flan, Fitch gets his fried ice cream, and Boolah gets a Fried Tortilla shell, covered in Butter, Cinammon, and Sugar, drizzled in Caramel and Chocolate, served ala mode with mounds of Whipped Cream. Yep, Boolah not only got a Sopapilla, but he also got a sopapilla with all of the stuff on it that he didn't want on the Xango.
What did Boolah do wrong? Well, kiddies, he violated the first two rules of eating at an ethnic establishment where the staff has a limited grasp of English. Rule #1: Always make sure the waiter knows exactly what you want. If the waiter looks confused or repeats something alot, you're in trouble. It's best to have a menu handy so you can point to what you want while you're saying it. Rule #2: Never try to get a custom order. It's a waste of time. So, now you know, and knowing's half the battle.
1 Comments:
Fries? You want fries?
Ha!
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