It’s that time of year again: Another birthday rolls around, and the parents have come into town to celebrate. They enjoy eating out, and I enjoy eating at nice restaurants for free. So when they visit, I try to impress them by taking them to somewhere unique (and out of my typical price range).
My first two choices were Castle Hill Cafe and Carmelo’s. Apparently, these two sleep in on Saturday and don’t open their doors until 5pm (lazy asses). Time was running out to choose a place to go, so I scrambled and pulled Manuel’s out of my hat of overheard restaurant reviews. I had heard good things about Manuel’s, and Mexican food is always a safe bet with most native Texans. So let’s go.
Before you even step in the restaurant, you’ll run into the problem that’s common at most establishments downtown: parking. The degree of this hassle will vary depending on when you go, but I was able to find a meter within a block — no big deal.
Now, when you first step inside Manuel’s, take note of that warm, tingling sensation. That’s the feeling of transporting to the future of the upscale Tex-Mex dining experience. The modern tables are graced by stainless steel seating apparatuses. However, the fate of my grounding had been predetermined by my parents — a sexy black leather booth, complete with the subtle glow of blue neon ground effects. If it had been darker, I might have assumed I was in an ritzy Tatooine cantina with Greedo as our waiter. I wouldn’t go as far as to say he was as rude as Greedo — just a little distant. This was surprising, since the place was hardly busy. He eventually took our orders, and soon it was time to ride this rocketship of futuristic fare.
The first contestant: tortilla soup. This was served in a fair portion, with tasty shredded chicken and crispy tortilla strips. Afterwards, you’ll no doubt be staring into a sad sea of broth. No worries — the entrees have arrived. I’ve been on a big pork kick with Mexican food lately, so I got the build your own enchiladas — pork with Suiza sauce. The pork was tender and excellent. I took a gamble with the unfamiliar Suiza, a thick sour cream sauce, which was good but probably better suited for chicken. I’m going to assume I got a bad batch of Spanish rice, because it was a little undercooked.
Also on the table was the impressive Camarónes a la Plancha. That’s shrimp and vegetables, if you took French in school. A solid combination all around. The other dish was the passable chicken fajitas. The chicken was bland and dry, like (insert your own washed-up comedic actor here.)
Hold the phone, son — it’s dessert time! That’s right, it’s Flan o’clock. I know not everyone is a fan of this Mexican treat. Something to do with a consistency (and name) similar to phlegm, I guess. Flan is really one of my favorite desserts, south of the border or otherwise. Manuel’s version featured a coconut crust and was decorated with raspberries — genius!
Despite a few flaws, this sci-fi eatery did not fail to impress me or my parents. The post-existence of Mexican is here, and I will certainly be back to the future! Hurry up with that check, Greedo. I’m full, and I want to walk off this meal by checking out the sweet skeleton figurines at Tesoro’s down the street.
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