Tag Archives: Yucatan

Casual Restaurant Critic at Mi Gusto Es…

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Quick review this time of the Casual Restaurant Critic and Better Half’s visit to the new seafood restaurant Mi Gusto Es, located in the same new ‘luxury’ plaza as the previously reviewed Tony Roma’s, where the waiter did his best Mr. Bean impersonation and cemented in the Critic’s mind why he should never return to this ridiculous ribs restaurant.

Feeling like seafood, Critic and BH ascended to the second level (of the shopping center that only features eateries, which will promptly be reviewed and either praised or destroyed, según) and a smiling hostess took them to their table or rather, accompanied them to a table of their choosing that was on the sunny side of the restaurant as the initial table offered was between the bathroom and the entryway to the centrally placed island cold kitchen.

The waiter, not a Yucatecan (just sayin’) was very professional, prompt and suggested several great options. The Critic ordered the seafood soup, always hopeful that ONE day a soup will arrive at the table that rivals even remotely the soup made by his brother in law, who, for the purposes of this review will remain nameless. BH ordered several tacos. For starters, cucarachas. That’s right, cockroaches. Brown, fried to crisp shrimp, marinated in something that turned them dark brown and by golly, they really do look like giant bugs. They are to be eaten, eyes, feet, tails and all and are delicious. Highly recommended. Have your friend take a photo of you with one sticking out of your mouth, with its black beady eyes staring out from between your lips.

When the busboy or waiter in training came out with BH’s tacos, the waiter actually discreetly sent him back to the kitchen to keep them warm and not bring them out until the soup was ready also. DID YOU READ THAT? This was an absolute FIRST in Merida and impressed both the Critic and Better Half to the point of mentioning it to the waiter and later inflating his tip.

The verdict? The food was great. Marlin taco (middle one) not too special, but the cheesy Sinaloa taco was scrumptious. The soup was absolutely filled to the brim with all manner of detritus from the sea, and worth every penny of its $133 peso price. It’s all about the broth, and this soup has a delicious, rich and flavorful broth that will surely to make your taste buds dance.

Service was, dare I say it, very good. The only fly in the ointment was the pair of servers who surreptitiously had someone’s (a diner’s) leftovers on a tray and were eating them in a secretive fashion with their backs turned to the restaurant. Unfortunately they were only a few feet away from the Critic so he couldn’t help but notice. Um… GROSS? But then, why waste some premium seafood, right? Just do it in the kitchen. Out of sight, out of mind.

Definitely worth trying if you are looking for some Pacific style fish tacos and cocktails (along the lines of Pez Gordo whose owners have split up (how rarely does THAT happen)  and the Pez Gordo is now El Pez something else).

Enjoy the photos.

Cucarachas

Cucarachas

Cucarachas, again

Cucarachas, again

Tacos

Tacos

Seafood soup

Seafood soup

Inside that taco I

Inside that taco I

Inside that taco II

Inside that taco II

In the soup

In the soup

English for Newbies – Helpful Hint #96

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Date vs Apptmt

When you are putting up a sign for readers in English, make sure the English is good enough that there will not be any understanding.

In Merida, there are many people who speak good. And by that I mean exactly that. They can get their point across perfectly well but if they want and are to project professionalism they must not be able to speak English good, they must be able to speak English well.

So, if you are translating your real estate advert for consumption by those who speak English, make sure your terminology is right. In the amusing case before us today, we notice that everything seems to be fine until we come to the word ‘date’.

The English word ‘date’ means fecha, in Spanish. Also, a ‘date’ can technically be seen as an appointment but more along the lines of a romantic get together. If you want to get together with your real estate agent, you make an appointment, not a date.

Unless you are dating your real estate agent of course. Then that opens up a whole new lata of gusanos.

The Coliseo Experience – Part II – Ana Gabriel from the Palco POV

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For those of you who read my last review of the Coliseo Experience which was based on the Marc Anthony concert (click here to read it) it might come as a surprise to find out that I again attended a concert at the Coliseo, this time to see Ana Gabriel in concert.

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Ana Gabriel is a singer with a distinctively strained-sounding voice that is both captivating and irritating at the same time, depending on your mood and how long you listen to her music.

In any case, Better Half, through her multiple connections, got unexpectedly invited to attend the concert as a guest and brought along my curmudgeonly self to enjoy the show, this time from a palco, which is a private box, at stage level (one level above the floor) and so this is how that experience went down, as compared with the previous, sweaty encounter in the Xmatkuil-like ambience of the Marc Anthony concert.

First of all, there were far less people attending this concert than the Marc Anthony show. Ana Gabriel has been around for some time and while she is still popular, she no longer enjoys the ‘pull’ that first-draw stars can rely on to fill seats. Still, as the night progressed, terminally late Meridanos arrived and about an hour into the show, the Coliseo was almost at 75% capacity.

just before the show

just before the show

When you have a palco, which you can purchase for a year, you have a 13 seat box with a half kitchen (fridge, sink, etc), a lounge area (couch, coffee table) seats facing the stage and a bar to stand behind and watch from as well. Arriving at the Coliseo, there is no parking in Celestun as is the case if you have a regular seat. Palco owners have their parking spot right near the door and your walk is on concrete, not dusty rocks, and so your chance of having your clothing still dust-free when you enter the Coliseo is exponentially increased.

You have your own access areas and an elevator if you so desire. The box is small, has its own air conditioning and private bathroom. No sweating or standing in lines to make a wish! You can show up before the show (a few hours, before the doors open) and stock your fridge with drinks, snacks and so on so that when you and your guests arrive, you can eat and drink without leaving your private space.

While I would probably not buy one of these palcos for myself as it is beyond my budgets capabilities, it is a great thing to know someone who has bought one, and is willing to generously share it with you from time to time. Kind of like having a friend with a boat.

If you must attend a show at the Coliseo, find a friend who has a palco and ingratiate yourself into receiving an invitation. It’s definitely the way to go.

BTW: the air conditioning has not been fixed, as evidenced by the audience members in the regular seats and on the so-called VIP floor level, fanning themselves throughout the evening.

side view of the stage

side view of the stage

Casual Restaurant Critic at Tony Roma’s

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Adding to the already burgeoning list of franchises now open in Merida, Tony Roma’s (also known as Tommy Roman’s according to one dear friend) recently opened across from the City Center (Walmart) shopping center just off the periférico up in the northern half of the city, where the moneyed folks live.

The Critic loves himself some ribs, so when Better Half suggested dinner there, he was all over that idea like a hog on corn. If you have seen the Critic eat ribs, you know that to be a very accurate analogy.

The sparkling new restaurant is in yet another small plaza with the same ‘luxury’ theme so popular these days here in the formerly white city. It seems that everyone is after those big peso clients, the ones who make up the clase socioeconómica alta. What makes them alta of course is the fact that they don’t want to spend that money and so the niche is quite competitive.

A bubbly hostess who looks to be about 14 greets you at the second set of glass doors, the first of which no one will open for you but they aren’t that heavy so no big deal. She looks at the party and asks “para tres?” and since Better Half has invited LawyerCritic along, there are in fact three people and off they go, to a booth table in what is obviously the bar area of the restaurant. The music is loud, the TV screens dominate as do the varying shapes of the butts of the people sitting on bar stools at a raised table next to the booth.

The evening’s highlight is the clueless, almost Mr. Bean category waiter who shows up and asks if the table would like some drinks. LawyerCritic asks what’s the special drink of the house to which Mr Bean replies “the margaritas are good” pointing to a list of about 5 different margarita (called Romaritas – HA HA HA – clever). Upon further prompting he proceeds to haltingly describe one or two of them and finally the table orders a regular, a Cadillac and an habanero margarita.

When they arrive they come in shakers and a show is made of shaking and serving the drinks. The Cadillac is very sweet, the habanero is very sour with no spice to it and the regular one is… regular.

photo 3 photo 2

After what seems an eternity, everyone’s friend Rowan comes back to see what they would like to order. Better Half orders the potato soup and a full rack of regular ribs.

“You want the full rack?” asks Mr. Bean, “or half”. Perhaps he didn’t hear Better Half so she repeated the order. He repeated it once again just to make Better Half feel like maybe she had a speech impediment or he was trying to send her a not very subliminal message about eating large portions late at night and then studiously made the annotation on his little order notepad. LawyerCritic wanted some pasta which didn’t cause too much consternation and the Critic ordered a rack with Makers Mark BBQ sauce.

“Bourbon?” asks Mr. Bean.

“Um, yes” replied the Critic, thinking up a witty retort to yet another seemingly pointless question.

Small side plates arrive which the Critic assumes are for depositing the lime garnishes from the drinks until sometime later, a little bit of bread arrives and some chilled butter. You haven’t experienced restaurant thrills until you are trying to alternately stab and spread some hard butter on your chunk of bread (warm) with a giant steak knife (see photo).

photo 1The ribs and pasta arrived a little while later, as the Critic, BetterHalf and LawyerCritic tried to make themselves heard over the noise.

Better Half asked “what about the soup?”

“Should I bring it?” replied Mr. Bean.

“NO I JUST ORDERED IT TO SCREW WITH YOUR MIND” and “NO, JUST KEEP IT IN THE KITCHEN AND SERVE IT TO ME FOR DESSERT” are what crossed the Critic’s mind but the always well-behaved Better Half being very polite simply said “yes please.”

Seeing that the glasses were empty, Mr. Bean reached and then leaned across the table presenting the better part of his upper torso to the Critic and Lawyer Critic as he vainly tried to grasp the glasses that were just beyond his reach. A simple ‘excuse me’ would have done the trick and Better Half would have handed him the empties. She asked him “would you like me to hand you these glasses?” and Mr. Bean replied “yes”, and lifted his semi-prostrate form off the table.

The simple request “Could we get some water?” was countered with “should I bring you a glass of water?” which begged a smart-ass reply like “NO DUDE, BRING ME ONE OF THOSE GARRAFONES OF WATER” but the Critic contained himself. Perhaps he was giving an option, but it wasn’t very clear.

The table tent in English read ‘Become a rib expert!’ and to ‘ask your server’ and so the Critic did.

“What is this all about?”

“I’ll bring you a form to fill out.”

Very informative. Thank you.

The ribs were fine, the french fries were excellent and the cole-slaw, the cheapest salad in the western hemisphere to make, was minuscule. Desserts were just fine, nothing to write home about or mention further in this blog. OK, there were two: a blackberry peach cobbler with ice cream and a chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwich.

photo 4 photo 2 photo 3

Food verdict for this class of restaurant? Better (and more) ribs by far at Chili’s. Better margaritas by far at Chili’s. Better desserts by far at Chili’s or Friday’s.

Service? OMG clueless to the point of hilarity.

Room? A sports bar feel without the put-together feel of Boston’s or Fridays masquerading as an upscale dining joint for Merida’s wannabe’s.

The Critic foresees a dim future for the Tony Roma’s franchise in Merida if this keeps up.

For those of you wondering how much it is to dine at this fine establishment, the bill came to $950 pesos before a tip.

Spanish for Newbies – Helpful Hint No. 117

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Spanish for Newbies – Helpful Hint No. 117

The photo (above) is typical of one you would find in a public or semi-public parking lot in Merida and to the Merida newbie it might be a bit confusing.

If you have studied any Spanish at all, you might recognize the word – sort of – and think “Oh, I remember paloma, which means pigeon, so this might mean male paloma. A palomo!” Alas, you’d be wrong and besides, you’d still be wondering about the ‘lic’ part. I mean it’s not ‘lic’ as in ‘lick’ which could mean don’t lick the palomos, but no.

‘Lic’ is short for ‘Licenciado’ which is a title usually handed out once you have completed some sort of lawyerly career option. Once you have achieved Licenciado status, you can place it in front of your last name and often people will call you simply ‘Licenciado’ instead of using your name. Short version? Lic. Pronounced Lick. With that explanation under our belt, we can therefore deduce that the sign is referring to a Licenciado Palomo; Palomo being his last name.

And there’s that crossed out letter ‘E’ as well, which everyone who has traveled means no E’ing. Seriously though, you have studied some Spanish (maybe you’ve been to España!) and so you recognize the sign indicating no parking. Parking is estacionar in Spanish. So that crossed out ‘E’ means no parking.

Now you must put them together.

It might mean that there is no parking if you are the Lic. Palomo. So should he happen to show up, he most definitely can not park in that space as the sign is personally directed at him. It might also mean that ‘Ey, no licking palomos‘ in that space because that’s how you pronounce the letter ‘E’ en español –Ey. Third option – and this one’s a keeper – is that the space is reserved for a certain Licenciado Palomo, so don’t you go parking your damn car there.

Got it? Good.

6 Places to Get Out of the Rain

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It seems, for some strange reason, that the rains this June here in Merida and the Yucatan in general, are never-ending and the humidity is threatening the paint and stucco on your restored colonial in el centro. And there is the mould that is sprouting on belts, shoes, handbags and the gear in your dungeon playroom; ugh.

Here is a short list of six things to do or places to go while this west coast (of Canada) weather continues to hamper your tanning,  organic tomato-drying and other sun-related activities.

1. Trámites. If you don’t know what a trámite is, you are missing out. Trámites can be loosely translated as paperwork (usually) involving something to do with the government. The rainy season can be used as an excuse to visit some government agency and do some paperwork: perhaps you need a license renewed, which you can do at the Siglo XXI convention center and movie theater complex across from what used to be Carrefour. You can easily spend a half day there, asking questions, filling out a form or two, getting some photocopies made and generally enjoying the dry, somewhat air conditioned space. Reward yourself with some popcorn from the movie theater concession stand afterwards.  OR, perhaps something to do with Hacienda? Hacienda has a modern office on 60 street near Sam’s and is fully air conditioned, has plenty of seating and there are lot of other people in there as well, so you can practice your Spanish and perhaps make new friends. I would not recommend doing anything related to immigration as their waiting room is tiny and you may end up waiting outside under a tarp in the humidity waiting for a spot in the air conditioned waiting room. There’s a lot of waiting in that last sentence.

2. Movies. Rainy season is a great time to catch up on movies. Go to a decent movie theater like the Cinepolis complex at Altabrisa, which will afford you the opportunity to also spend time in the mall. Head out early in the morning and spend the day watching all the movies, back to back. Barring any power outages, you will have a great day, seated in air conditioned comfort and watching potentially decent movies and overdosing on candy corn which is quite good at Cinepolis. TIP: Avoid the movie Maléfica, with Angelina Jolie. It is truly hideous and you will feel your toes curl in pena ajena embarrassment for her. What was she thinking? She actually produced as well as starred in this drivel.

3. Mall time. Great time to go to a mall! The best mall is Altabrisa, where you can spend the better part of the day, especially when combined with a visit to the Cinepolis movie theaters (mentioned in the previous paragraph if you’re just skipping through this). Figure for an hour or two at Starbucks, people watching and drinking expensive but great coffee. Visit the Haagen Dazs shop and eat an ice cream that will cost as much as a dinner for seven at any panuchería downtown. Another hour or two can be spent at the Sanborns magazine rack, reading through anything of interest there. A movie will kill an hour and a half as well. There is a grocery store if you are so inclined as well as several restaurants upstairs such PF Chiangs, IHOP, California Pizza Kitchen, among others.

4. Serious grocery shopping. If you are used to the hustle and bustle, the grime and the crowds of the markets downtown, a rainy day is a good opportunity to visit a big grocery store in the norte of the city. Perhaps Comercial Mexicana or Chedraui or, what the hell, Walmart. Please note that Walmart here is not the same as trashy Walmart in the US; it is a more upscale experience and you will not find the g-string-clad and balding 65 year old with his gym pants around his knees shopper here. You can also enjoy the interesting concept at La Comer, for example, of laying out raw meat on giant tables with a little ice underneath, the carne exposed in all it’s raw nakedness, edges curling, to the supermarket air and people sneezing, coughing and poking with fingers. Nevermind the science that has evolved over several hundred years regarding temperature requirements for the storage of raw meat. The store is air conditioned so that is enough, apparently. And while the meat is placidly rotting, notice the ham and cheese ladies who are obliged to wear disposable masks. Does anyone else think this is somewhat incongruous or is it just me? Hmm. Cruise the aisles and look for interesting items you may have previously thought were not available here, like the Spam, located near the Paté du Canard. A gourmet item, surely.

5. Museum time. You might spend a day at the new Mayan museum, built to honor all things Mayan with money that could have been better spent on actual Mayans still living in abject poverty to this day. But who am I to know about these things and the deci$ion$ made by the powers that be. It’s all about promotion. Keep in mind that a visit to the museum might be thwarted if some dignitary is visiting the convention center nearby and the entire area is sealed off by the state police and men in white guayaberas, khaki pants and earpieces. These guys are the estado mayor and take care of presidential level security, so don’t expect any sympathy from them when you try to explain that you came all the way from Santiago by bus and were really wanting to see the how the meteor killed the dinosaurs at the museum.

6. Stay home. A great time to read, clear up your email inbox, file and label those papers you have been stacking in a pile near the door. Of course if the CFE doesn’t cooperate you will need candles and reading glasses as the power will flicker out and you sit in the damp, warm darkness listening to the lovers quarrel, cats mating, dogs barking or the roosters crowing just below your window. At that point you might consider renting a room at the Hyatt, which is what the well-to-do locals are prone to do during a hurricane.

I hope this list comes in time for you, dear reader, to take advantage of it and enjoy the rest of your mouldy day.

The Coliseo Experience – Marc Anthony Comes to Merida

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marcanthony

From the poster, we should all have known that the temperature inside the Coliseo was going to be heat-stroke inducing.

I drive by the new (as of this writing) Coliseo every day. I marvel at it’s size and the potential of having world-class entertainment come to Merida at last, and not have to play on a baseball field or a sports stadium. Until last night, however, I had not been inside the building. Marc Anthony came to town and of course the Better Half wanted to go so we got some decent tickets in the tiered section, three rows up right in the middle. Fantastic seats with a perfect view of the stage.

But let’s step back for a moment and start at the beginning of the experience, from when you approach the Coliseo on the highway. If you are coming from Progreso, you must take the Dzibilchaltun exit on your right, but of course that is not marked so you will unwittingly reach the Maseca exit only to find it blocked off – at which point you will have to continue on to the Xcanatun exit and come back and find yourself in the same predicament as the people coming from Merida! From Merida, you need to be in your left lane practically from Liverpool on as the process of getting to the Coliseo is not exactly a streamlined process, to say the least. On the highway to Progreso, in your left lane with your emergency flashers a-flashing like a good Mexican driver, you advance slowly but hopefully patiently.

Bring an audiobook for this part of your trip as it may take a while. I suggest something calming as your nerves are about to be tested. You notice that many people pass on the lane to your right but pay them little heed until you come to a point where you notice that all these people, who had far less patience than you and were NOT going to wait in line, are now trying to force their way into your lane. You will notice cars behind you and in front of you closing in on their neighbors, moving to literal bumper-to-bumper status so as not to let ANYONE in.

When you come to the Dzibilchaltun roundabout, you will notice that there are other cars, probably from the Ceiba or Country golf residential areas, trying to merge into the roundabout which is now a solid line of vehicles with only a henequen fiber’s space between the front of one car and the back of the other. Then suddenly someone from the the golf lineup will just drive into the line of cars and force someone in your line to apply the brakes, causing much horn-honking and high beam flashing, but nothing more serious. (Yes, that was me) If this were Los Angeles…

Now you have come around the roundabout and are going again in a Progreso to Merida direction. You will notice that there are two lanes to choose from, so you pick the right lane, which is moving slower than the left, but it is the one that will take you into the Coliseo, you figure. A third lane appears as impatient drivers move to take over any available asphalt in their quest to reach the Coliseo.

The show starts at 9 and it is 8:30 when you finally reach the entrance to the Coliseo and that one lane that became two and then three? They are all turning into the Coliseo parking lot. You are merging almost bumper car style from three to two lanes and then are met with – surprise – a guy that tells you you need to pay $30 pesos for parking. Never mind that you already forked over $100 – $400 USD or more for your ticket, this is extra*. And it’s not like you have a choice either, the highway across the street and any available parking in the area has been blocked off by the state police.

So you pay and get a very official looking little ticket (insert chuckle or snort here) and proceed along the 3 yards of pavement to what is now a Xmatkuil parking lot, complete with a few rocks lining the route and plenty of dusty dirt. In fact, the Xmatkuil parking lot may be better, as they at least left some trees in the parking lot as a nod to Mother Nature; but in the modern Coliseo world, Mother Nature probably didn’t pay her 30 pesos ticket and so was kicked to the curb by a bulldozer. Note to self – don’t wash car to impress anyone if coming to the Coliseo. It will be covered in dust (as will you) at the end of the night.

After parking almost in Sisal, you then embark on a leisurely 15 minute stroll to the building, breathing in the gritty dust of the hot night air and enjoying the blinding bright white glaring in your face as you stumble behind the people in front of you.

At the door your ticket is checked and you are relieved of your cigarettes. Not your lighter, but your cigarettes. What the hell? I save two for later in a shirt pocket and hand over my pack and this seems satisfactory to the person doing the cigarette collecting.

At last, we are inside.

The place looks like it is not yet finished, but the spaces for concessions and so on are full; it appears many companies have paid big pesos to be there and have even brought their sound systems and skimpily clad edecanes (models whose purpose it is to draw your attention to whatever the company that hired them is trying to promote, which they do by flaunting skin tight lycra clothing, as much cleavage as they can push up and exposed navels) The sound systems create the kind of cacophony that would rival Xmatkuil on opening day, which seems to be what the Coliseo is all about.

There is a lineup for the elevator (yes, elevator) to take us to the seats and section where we are supposed to be, but I don’t want to stand in line and also want to see the place, so I suggest we take the stairs. The semi-open building is still pretty hot as we hike up several flights of concrete stairs in a never-ending spiral.

Somewhat out of breath, we arrive at our level and a random young lady takes the tickets out of my hands and starts walking so we follow. If she had had a uniform it would have been a little less adrenaline-producing to have those tickets snatched out of my hand like that. But, it turns out she is one of many ushers, none of whom are wearing anything remotely resembling a uniform and we are shown to our seat, such as it is. The seats are the plastic kind you would find at a sports arena and quite close together both on the sides and in front and back. Walking out from your seat to the stairs to say, go to the bathroom, would require some care and in the high heels some of these ladies were wearing, it would be downright dangerous and the chance of falling into the seats and onto the heads of those seated directly in front would be pretty high.

Immediately we notice the heat. It is unbearably hot and everyone of the female persuasion and the occasional male is fanning themselves. We all acquire a healthy “glow” as we wait for the show to begin.

As I mentioned the seats were great. I felt sorry for the folks in the front row, where there is a balcony looking down on the sorry-ass VIP’s below, because this front row is also where the vendors are passing by selling everything from beer, pop and water to snacks to junk food to whatever else they can, out of elegant 5 gallon paint buckets. There are at least 1,000 of them in the entire place and they DO NOT STOP the entire evening and so, those people who thought they had an unobstructed view of the stage, spend much of their evening peering around the sweaty bodies of vendors looking forlornly and expectantly into the bleachers.

Did I mention the heat? As I said before, if you are a woman, don’t bother putting on makeup or dressing in any light colors as the dust outside will dirty your clothing and the heat inside will smudge the Sephora garage sale on your face. It is really hot. Reading up on the Coliseo’s Facebook page, someone complained about the fact that the air conditioners weren’t turned on until half way through the concert, and the Coliseo answer was that yes they were, but there were so many people that “affected the air flow”. Um, OK. That makes perfect sense.

Oh yes, the sorry-ass VIP comment. The people on the floor had paid top peso to be there in their little seats and all. As soon as the lights dimmed and the music started, however, the seats were abandoned as was all sense of decorum and it became a large mosh pit filled with an over-dressed mob that jostled to get as close to the stage as possible. Aisles? Forget about it; those filled up as well.

An MC announced a welcome to the disinterested crowd, and informed us all where the emergency exits were, should an emergency arise. The immediate concern to me was suffocation and heat stroke as my shirt stuck to my back in spite of Better Half’s vigorous fanning.

Marc started his show more or less on time and people continued drifting in until about 10 AM and by then, the show was 1/3 over and the Coliseo was finally full. The powers that be at this point started thinking about turning on the air conditioning.

Perhaps in another post I will write about the concert itself, but for now, this report has gone on for far too long.

Ahh, what the hell; a few lines about the concert. Short show, awful, muddled acoustics due to all that concrete, and he stops singing during almost all the songs and asks the audience if “they know this one” and then holds the microphone out to the audience and they all scream along in their charming tone-deaf but enthusiastic way like autistic children at a birthday party. I know this is how concerts at Xmatkuil and other palenque events work, but I was hoping for a more enlightened experience at this new and supposedly more sophisticated venue. Alas, it was not to be. Marc by the way was also sporting a healthy glow that quickly metamorphosed into a full blown flow of sweat and he laughingly mentioned on more than one occasion that it sure was cold here tonight which got a laugh out of the audience every time.

So what about after the show you ask. Well, I could write for another 12 minutes about the absolute MESS that is all those people leaving the Coliseo parking lot at the same time with no direction, no courtesy and driving like a herd of horny hippos that have been let loose from the zoo to find a mate after 2 years in captivity. I could, but I won’t. Have you been to Costco and seen how the charming mothers from the catholic Merida school across the street, who use it as their personal parking lot, will commit vehicular homicide against anyone who is in their way? It’s like that, but on a larger, unmarked, chaotic and of course dustier scale.

The Coliseo has potential, but I don’t see anyone working on it these days so perhaps the half-finished look and feel is what they were going for. One day perhaps, the plastic-looking facade will be redone with something more striking and the parking lot will be landscaped (insert another snort here) or at least paved and there will be some adequate lighting outside and the air conditioners will be turned on (or they will let less people in to enable more “air flow”) but for now, I will avoid it and retain my sanity thank you very much.

 

* The parking fee, from what I have learned extra-officially is the Coliseo’s payment to the state police for “helping” them “organize” the parking situation. Apparently the money goes to some sort of fund for policeman’s families.   

 

6 Reasons Why Uxmal is Better Than Chichen Itza

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Uxmal is better than Chichen Itzá.

Yeah, I said it.

While all the tour companies and agencies and re-sellers and operators are out to make a buck on delivering hordes of bleary-eyed and sunburnt beachgoers from Cancun, the Riviera Maya and Tulum, those in the know are in Uxmal enjoying what is most assuredly a superior Mayan ruin experience.

Here are the top six reasons Uxmal beats Chichen Itzá, hands down:

1. It’s location. Uxmal is located 90 minutes from Merida and about 5 hours from Cancun which is fantastic. Fantastic because the hordes from the Quintana Roo (Google it) side  of the Yucatan peninsula are not going to show up here, ever. To get to Uxmal from Playa del Carmen, Tulum, Cancun and that all-inclusive hotel, you would have to sacrifice a night of accommodation you already paid for and stay in the area around Uxmal or at least Mérida OR spend the entire day driving. And of course then you would be exposed to all that crime in this country. And all this leads to the second reason Uxmal beats Chichen Itzá:

2. No Crowds. Mostly because of the location, Uxmal never feels crowded. Whereas at Chichen Itzá you will line up for a ticket, line up for a bathroom, line up for a second ticket, line up to get your ticket punched and can not get a photo of a structure without seven hundred other human beings photobombing you, at Uxmal you can play Annie Leibovitz all day and get some truly award-winning photos that will keep you in the money via iStock for years to come. Maybe. There is enough room that whenever a tour bus does show up (and they do, but they are full of Russians, Italians, Belgians, Germans or Poles rather than Americanos) the site is large enough to absorb them and it never feels crowded. Also, if you are going to make a wish (inside joke) there are no lines at the bathrooms, ladies!

3. No vendors. Woo-hoo! If you have been to Chichen Itzá lately you know all about the vendors and how their presence INSIDE the site is an eyesore and takes away from your experience. Nothing like feeling the energy of the the ancient stones with your fellow “crystal people” when suddenly your meditative reverie is interrupted by  a nasal shout from under the trees “CHEAPER THAN WALMART!” Um, OK, good to know since I always shop for my Mayan souvenirs at Walmart. The vendors have their agenda and I am not going to get into whether or not it’s a valid one; we are talking about the experience here, and they are not helping by occupying every shady spot on the site and hassling you every two steps with yet another article of dubious origin that all miraculously cost the same and are made by the same person – the ubiquitous and elusive Juan Dolla. You may get the impression that YOU are Juan Dolla: “blanket, Juan Dolla”; “jade mask, Juan Dolla”; Along with the wood carver next to the table carving his (same) piece of wood for the duration of his day thereby convincing you that those masks and jaguars and calendars are hand carved, there are also the Mayan grannies who have learned some English: “hankie, Juan Dolla”. Uxmal has no vendors inside the site. Period.

4. The structure themselves. While Chichen Itzá is impressive in its size and many buildings are indeed breathtaking, the stonework on each and every façade at Uxmal is so much more intricate and will literally blow your mind, if you are of the artistic bent and are prepared to allow your mind to be blown. Chichen Itzá’s structures feature some carved stone but there was also a lot of stucco, painted and sculpted, which, over the centuries has melted away under the sun, rain and the chisels and pockets of the curious. The stones on the other hand at Uxmal, are still there, probably because the un-enlightened Spaniards did not find it necessary to build anything resembling a city, town or hacienda there.

5. No ropes! OK: just a few. The buildings and structures at Uxmal have far less restrictions and nasty ropes draped around their entirety with the sign “no pasar” or “prohibido el paso” which means you are able to walk around in the jungle, behind giant partially restored pyramids, play Indiana Jones (watch out for snakes and wasps) and/or generally feel like Dora the Explorer in your own way. You can climb the giant pyramid at the back for a spectacular and vertigo-inducing view. At Chichen Itzá, EVERYTHING is roped off, all the cool little pathways into the jungle have the aforementioned rope or chain and forget about climbing up anything to get a look around.

6. The best espresso in the Yucatan. It’s true, in spite of what Starbucks and some of those newly arrived Italianos in Merida might tell you: the espresso at the little cart up against the wall in Uxmal, is probably the best espresso you will find for hundreds of miles around.  Chichen Itzá does not have one of these carts. Boo for them.

 

Superman on Montejo

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On the Prolongación Paseo de Montejo recently, I was able to observe this super-man who, while transporting a giant king-size mattress from A to B, felt that him assisting in holding the mattress down by the plastic covering on it, would basically prevent it from flying away with a gust of wind.

I can’t remember if it was George Lopez or Jerry Seinfeld that first pointed out this (always male) phenomenon and the (always male) belief that simply grabbing whatever is on your car roof can be held down by you with one hand as you drive along the road.

Please note that this is a male thing and not related to the license plate on the car; I will not approve posts that make fun of our neighbours from Campeche thank you very much.

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The Casual Restaurant Critic Has Breakfast – A Puro Pan / Merci

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In the company of the charming and always gastronomically adventurous Better Half, the Casual Restaurant Critic mustered up the strength to shower, get dressed and go out for breakfast on this fine Easter Sunday morning. Two restaurants were visited, in the interest of coming up with some new options for the 11 constant readers of this column and to take advantage of a lazy Sunday (and the fact that the Critic was freshly showered)

A Puro Pan

This is a new restaurant, in yet another small shopping plaza, this one called “Luxury Plaza” on that stretch of northern Merida road that starts at the “pocito” roundabout and ends where CityCenter meets the periferico. It never ceases to amaze the Critic at how many shopping plazas there are along these few kilometers – at last count there were more than 20, of varying styles, sizes and all sporting the same L shape so popular among Merida plazas. It is also amazing that all these luxury and exclusive and VIP places still have clientele; there are so many offerings for this tiny market segment.

A Puro Pan is all about bread, hence it’s name. Freshly baked bread and plenty of sandwich options are on the menu and for breakfast, some egg items as well. The Critic chose the Spanish baguette on Parmesan bread while the Better Half ordered Eggs Benedict.

Now you can’t go wrong with jamon serrano (unless you are unlucky enough to order it at the Viejo Molino – ugh) and so here, the Spanish baguette was just fine, a smallish baguette-like bread with plenty of jamon, some inexpensive local cheese. Nothing to write home about and the accompanying salad – some lettuce of varying styles possibly of the pre-washed plastic bag variety – showed signs of browning around some of the leaves and so was a little less than appetizing and the Critic did not finish his vegetables.

The Eggs Benedict however, were about as Benedict-y as the Caesar salad is Caesar-y at Trotters. In other words, not really Eggs Benedict. Eggs were baked in what appeared to be little muffin cups; not poached. Accompanied by some breakfast potatoes and atop something that looked like an English muffin and some salmon, there was no evidence of any hollandaise sauce lurking under, among or on top of the eggs, so not sure what the restaurant is trying to do with this menu item. It is not unattractively presented but, call it Puro Pan Eggs or something else, por favor.

Service was extremely nice and attentive. The room itself is dark, with low lighting which is fine for mornings when the Critic is less than presentable and doesn’t want to be in the harsh glare of the lights. Air conditioning was minimal and the place was cool but on the edge of a little warm, if you know how that feels.

After breakfast there, Better Half suggested checking out another new spot called Merci.

Merci – HomeMade Food

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Merci is located in the San Angelo shopping (more luxury of course) plaza, which is near the soon-to-be-finished San Angelo condos, yet another housing development in northern Merida defining itself as – yawn – exclusive, and located parallel to the periferico in the area between City Center and Sodzil.

It is a bright, airy restaurant with a decidedly French feel, not only because the waiter is indeed French but also because the Yucatecan chef studied in France and has come home to feed her fellow Meridanos. By this time, the Critic didn’t mind the bright airiness of the place and was delighted to see French Press coffee on the menu.

Indeed, the freshly pressed coffee is very tasty and served with tiny ceramic cups that are too cute. A bread basket was ordered and it contains what appears to be a scone, a pain au chocolat and a little muffin. Served with tiny bowls of butter and jam and all very good. The pain au chocolat is not flaky and light, but heavier, denser and delicious. Very buttery.

The kitchen is in plain view, the tables are close together European style and the overall impression is that this is a place worth re-visiting, to try some of the other breakfast offerings which range from homemade banana pancakes and oeufs any style to granola and more. Prices seem very reasonable and the air conditioning is perfect.

Final verdict for breakfast? Merci, hands down. The Critic will be back.