Jalisco is the closest Mexican restaurant to my apartment and some kind of Washington chain. The food is consistently mediocre, but I’m not going for the tacos. I’m going to make an offer on the stunning picture (above) that hangs majestically in the dining room. I’ve tried cash, prostitution, my unborn children, a nice combo of all three, but nothing works. Anyway, I still have to order food to increase my chances.

This evening’s visit started with a bizarre chips and salsa delivery. Chips were placed on the table, snatched away and relocated to a table behind me, and then resurfaced later. I have no idea if they were the same ones. It was weird. And both sets of chips were tough and chewy in a stale or over-fried way. I had to really gnaw on these guys and quickly lost interest.

Maybe stale chips work out for Tortilla Soup ($3.75 for a good-sized small). I was impressed with the smoky chipotle soup flavor combined with jack cheese, nice looking chicken parts, Mexican spices, celery, onions, and tortilla strips that never lost their crunch. I would order this again and again.

Things took another turn for the weird when my fish taco ($3.95) arrived. The corn tortilla had a slimy/soggy feel. Also, it was filled with assloads of cilantro so I couldn’t really taste anything else.

Assloads of Cilantro

I noticed that above my table hung a certificate-type of award that said, “Best Mexican Restaurant (non-franchise) by Evening Magazine 1997.” Well, I don’t know about that, but next time I will bring them a new award that says, “Best Artwork I’ve Ever Seen In My Whole Damn Life.”

(1 tacos)

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