You know what I really love? When I ask people for recommendations for a specific cuisine or dish and my earholes are filed with answers like, “My mom makes THE BEST enchiladas,” or “Oh! There’s a spot in Ville St. Laurent that made THE BEST tacos… but now it’s a Jean Cotu.” So unless you want me to ring your mom’s door on an off night where my visit isn’t scheduled, don’t tell me that she makes the best burritos because I’m going to go looking for some. Recently I asked around looking for tacos. Honest, simple and true to the bone kind of tacos. Questioned with a warning of an imminent slap to the face if answered with a location that isn’t accessible, I asked my people for the good tacos.
tacos
Thanks and welcome to all my new Twitter followers and new “likers” on Facebook. A big shout out to all of you I’ve been talking to this past week. You all are awesome and I’m sure, sexy as hell.
Having been opened for a few months so far, if you’ve read my ramblings long enough, you’d know that I like to let new restaurants have a chance to get the pots and pans a little dirty before checking it out. Little did I know that holding to this philosophy would take a completely different meaning when we visited Ice House. Not to say that Icehouse is “dirty” dirty, but the kind of dirty that’s dirty in all the good dirty ways, if you know what I mean.
When eating tacos, please remember to eat more than four but less than fifteen. – Restaurant La Matraca
Have you ever NOT known what you wanted until you saw it? I’m guilty of this every time I see a Ferarri rolling past, or a really cute girl. Usually when going to a restaurant that I’ve never been to before, I like to research a bit; so I have an idea of what I’m going into. On this night, we didn’t know where we were going until this brightly colored place caught our eyes, and the random notes of mariachi music slipped out of the door as someone walked out.
We “accidentally” hit up La Matraca, on St. Denis – we were actually on our way back from another restaurant up the street where we were told to get lost because we didn’t have reservations. We didn’t know what kind of place it was, but as we sat down, looked around at what the other patrons were eating, it dawned on us. The realization hit us with much excitement and celebration, kind of like when you’re studying some old guy’s funny looking hair at the bus stop and realize that he’s wearing a toupee… We were sitting in a taqueria!