Mercury RX tales “The rest of the story…”
I was wandering along the shores of Town Lake, or the Colorado River, depending on nomenclature, and I realized the whole back story for El Paso’s Cafe Dali hadn’t been told. Yet.
Wander back in years with me, I think it’s been several years, Grace “the psychic lady” had put me up for a weekend, and we dined with her folks. Her daddy’s a Scorpio, so me and him got along like a house afire.
Her daddy was a proto-geek, and I was, at the time, a noveau-geek. He liked me and gave me a nickname, a term of affection, “Cool Arrow.” “Cool” because, well, I [i]am[/i] cool. “Arrow” because I was a straight shooter.
Now, not long ago, I developed a new taste for a slightly different afternoon beverage.
In [i]Starbuck-ese[/i], it’s called a “doppio macchiato,” however, one barista in SA told me it was really called a “curtado.” Turns out, or so I think, he was pulling my leg.
See, that one feller, think he was a Mexican, told me that what I was asking for was really called a “pendejo” (pin-DAY-hoe). Then he made it with soy milk.
“That soy milk really accentuates the good roast of the beans,” he was telling me.
Want to really impress the Spanish speaking folks? Know what I’ll order next time?
“Me Cool Arrow. Soy pendejo, por favor.”
I love the russet colors prevalent in the Southwestern architecture, hint of adobe, one of Dali’s clocks on the wall.