I was born and raised in the sweetest of all cities, Sugar Land, and after my graduation from the University of Houston, I began my career in interior design. Leading me to the most wonderful city in the world.
I am now 14 months into my relationship with New York City. It has been absolutely wonderful, minus the part where I am paying double to live in an overpriced closet. Which, remarkably enough, does not actually have a closet … or a washing machine, or a dishwasher, or an air conditioner. Enough with the complaining – it is fabulous. I have been busy designing great spaces from uptown to downtown and all the way out to the Hamptons. Life is good. But back to my kitchenette, or as you may call it, a two-square-foot counter with a sink and a stove attached – a girl has got to eat right? Just like Carrie Bradshaw, I use the oven as an alternate storage unit for non-cooking related items.
So here I am in the middle of New York City, the landing pad for all cultures, creatures and incredible food that dazzles. In this Mecca of all melting pots one can find a street entirely lined with only Korean bakeries, businesses and eateries; the next street over is dotted with at least five “pick-your-favorite falafel” food carts, all just steps from more Polish fare than you can probably even find in Warsaw. There is anything and everything you have ever dreamed of. You crave it? NYC’s got it.
Except, there is one type of food you cannot find anywhere in New York City (and I know a lot of NYC Texans on the prowl), and that is Tex-Mex. Absolutely nothing comes close to the glory of our beloved Texas-Mexican blend of yummy deliciousness. There are a few places that supposedly pose as quasi Tex-Mex look-alikes (not taste-alikes), but the closest to real Texican goodness I have found here was from a taco truck on the Upper East Side. Unfortunately, I have been unable to track down that magnificent Northeastern taco master since that one time.
It seems that no one in this city has savored the pure joy of authentic fajitas, enchiladas, burritos, quesadillas, huevos rancheros, tortilla soup or queso. Most people outside the borders of Texas are seriously confused when you even mention the word queso. I’ve repeatedly heard, “Who orders melted cheese?”
And would you believe that New Yorkers simply cannot make a proper margarita? Yet they have the audacity to charge double the hourly minimum wage for an overly salted frothy frozen wannabe-margarita that falls short every time. Now that is a whole ’nother kind of wrong.
When my Houston family does Tex-Mex, it is usually Los Tios. It was one of the first restaurants opened in Sugar Land, and we’ve eaten there since I was a small child. Once we even spotted Olympic gold medal winner Tara Lipinski getting her Tex-Mex on a few tables away. Celeb spotting!
Yes, everyone knows where to find real Tex-Mex. Only in the great state of Texas. Queso, anyone?