It’s such an eye-opener, a very frustrating one, that a  hole-in-the-wall Mexican  eatery here in Pleasanton, somewhere in Northern California, serves much, much better Mexican food than all the Mexican restaurants back home in Manila.

We had lunch at a small place in a strip mall yesterday and everything was good – the free salsa and guacamole, my chicharones plate, the tacos, the other meat plates of my companions. I noticed the mix of blue collar and officer worker-types among the clientele.

Two servings of salsa were given, a spicy and a non-spicy one. The freshness of the tomatoes and the zestiness of the citrus made the salsa dips good starters. The guacamole was served a bit chilled. Again, bursting with enlivening flavor. These plus the unflavored tortillas were free.

My chicharones was spicy but manageable. I ordered my plate ”mild” but the serving already packed real heat. Left me wondering how hot the “spicy” version would be. The rice and beans left a heavy feel on the stomach. The pork was slow cooked, very tender. The skin had lost it crunchiness because of the sauce. The dish made me realize how much heightened my salt requirements had become, because I was craving for more saltiness despite knowing this was as proper a Mexican presentation as there was. I need to disengage myself sometimes from my attachment to NaCl.

I just had a few bites of the meals my companions ordered.

I washed my meal down, by the way, with the in-house horchata.