chilaquiles

We started this Latin eating series for many reasons, but one of them was the idea that we would solve the many mysteries that lie within those places you so often drive by but never stop to investigate. For me, I've always wondered about the large building on the corner of Nicollet and 28th that has so many interesting sign, names and dimensions. Most folks might notice the Marissa's Panaderia sign on 28th. Some might notice the names El Mariachi or El Nuevo Mariachi. Whatever is going on there, I surely had no clue and as often as I am in the neighborhood, be it by bike, bus or auto, it is high time to settle it.

There are just some eateries that leave a warm fuzzy feeling when you remember them. Homi actually left a burning hot and fuzzy feeling, and I still feel good just thinking about the tiny establishment, hidden behind a pile of University avenue construction. From the charming owners and workers, to the absolutely amazing hand made food, Homi was just what we were looking for.

People keep asking us, "How long are you going to keep doing this?" I'm not sure if they are surprised at out resilience, persistence or appetites, but here we are...another week, another new Latin eatery. This past week as we sat down to sup at Manana, in the Dayton's bluff neighborhood of St. Paul, we were anything but discouraged. Owner, Balmore Paiz certainly made sure that we were both well fed and well informed.

Usually, we are armed with nothing but an address and the hope that the next Latin eatery is in fact, real. It is easy for your imagination to get the best of you when you are constantly entering new and strange places, as if you might enter into a doorway never to return...new dimensions, new worlds, a salsa bar? 

Driving down 34th Avenue south in Minneapolis, there are absolutely no signs that there will be anything but more and more houses. There is certainly no "business district" around and as we neared 62 and saw the telltale signs of the airport, we thought this would be our first wild goose chase. But then, a gas station appeared like a beacon of hope and as our bellies rumbled in anticipation, we saw a modest sign, wedged between the laundromat and gas station: Las Teresitas. We had arrived. 

Why are we doing this? Read our intro article.

Up to this point, we have been rather amazed at our luck in choosing Latin eateries. We started with a Mexican restaurant in Minneapolis that was heavy on the seafood. Then over to St. Paul for a long established Mexican restaurant that blended in some American ways. Third was an Ecuadorian restaurant. When would our luck run out and we either find terrible food or become redundant?