Tag Archives: wayan’e

Wayan’E – Again

Poc Chuc and Chicharra tacos. Notice the beans.

After so many years of living here and not going, Wayan’E has received more visits from the Casual Restaurant Critic than usual, probably because of his rather sparse pocketbook situation (dictionary sales are down this lifetime) and also because Better Half is always on a trip someplace exotic.

Read the previous review here; there is really nothing new to report except that the tacos are delicious, the service friendly as hell and the prices are fantastic.

I am hungry now what with that photo. I think I will go al ratito which does not mean “to the little rat” but rather “in a little while”.

Wayan’e Itzimna

Today, as Mr Lawsons Twitter followers may have read, the Casual Restaurant Critic had his first-ever experience with the world-famous Wayan’e Tortas & Tacos in Meridas Itzimná neighborhood. The sandwich was good, the chaya and pineapple drink refreshing – but the best part was the cheery, witty man behind the counter! The owner, perhaps?

Que va a llevar, chel!?!” he literally shouts, all smiles.

The Critic asks this very friendly man what to order since it is the Critics first time ever. Immediately he issues a command to the cook who starts preparing the sandwich/torta; something meaty with melted cheese.

“What will you have to drink” he asks (in Spanish of course)

“What do you have?”

“Something local?”

“How local?”

Chaya con Piña?”


The Critic and the owner chit-chat for a moment longer, waiting for the torta to be heated on the plancha until it is crispy and the cheese melts out the sides. There is another lady waiting for something, who is commenting on the fact that her centro neighborhood is overrun with ‘gringos’ – norteamericanos y canadienses – she points out, looking furtively at the Critic. She expresses amazement at one norteamericano in particular in her neighborhood who is wheelchair-bound and races around in sentido contrario on the streets in his motorized wheelchair ‘like a little truck’ she says shaking her head and smiling. The owner asks if the Critic is a norteamericano.

Canadiense. Por favor

Everyone laughs.

A nudge at the Critics elbow. The Critic pretends to jump, as if scared at this sudden intrusion into the conversation by a tall-glass-with-chaya-piña-water-in-it wielding lady. The owner, obviously a master of wit, immediately remarks “and that is why we don’t open at night!”


A return visit is imminent…