It was fine. No really, we're fine. You fine? Just fine.
And that's about all I can say about El Meson.
After circling the alley way about 3 times, we finally found the S. Lamar location of El Meson. "Is that it? No, that can't be it, they'd have a sign. But people are walking in. Look out for that car!! Are we going to get towed if we park here?"
Husband had spent some time at the Burleson location enjoying their breakfasts, and wanted to try the new location for dinner. Kind of unusual little joint. Looks like someone in the mid-salary bracket wanted to build a home out in the hill country on a little bit of land and ran out of money before they painted or furnished it. Little bleak, sterile, air conditioning was weak. Ok, I nitpick, but I honestly felt just on the edge of uncomfortable from the moment I walked in here, and that's a strike against food foreplay.
Ordered:
Al Pastor: s'alright. But as in "didn't need to drive 25 miles to get this when the exact tasting semi-dry pork could have been had on practically every corner between here and there."
Pork with Guajillo Sauce: Oh yeahhhhhh. Savory, velvety, tangy. Too bad I wasn't the one who ordered this. My knight in shining armor did offer to share, but I had to take my Pastor lumps on this one. This IS worth a trip.
Mexican Martinis: we usually avoid these as they're typically sno-cone syrup variety margaritas. But the description looked pretty au natural, so we gave it a shot, and were tickled pink to be brought hefty filled shakers. Ahhhh...long sip. GAH, HACK, PTOOEEEY. Well, not so dramatic. But I paused, looked confused, looked up to see hubby giving me that meaningful speaking-volumes look of, "What the hell?" Then a, "Is that..." "Yeah.." "So I'm not just being..." "No." It was pretty much just lime juice (and I'm not totally convinced it was the advertised fresh-squeezed stuff either). But it burned, buuuurned! I just can't believe it was the normal recipe, it was that bad, and suspect our bartender got distracted and just didn't finish the mixture. There could not have been a single drop of orange liqueur, and I kind of doubt tequila even sniffed around the drink.
So we did what we never do...we sent them back despite the chance of a spit-cocktail. Can you imagine how schmucky you feel to be a 30-something year old sending back a margarita b/c "it isn't sweet enough?" Now how can we be taken seriously at that point? But the manager (owner?) brought them back, graciously saying that they were still fine-tuning the recipe. And they were better. Still not good, but at least no longer blistering.
Would we return? No. Just too many places all over town that serve the same if not better food. And those other places wouldn't have ended up costing $45 for 2 people, even minus the $9/ citric acid margarita. Or at least for that price the chips and salsa would have been free (yeah, that's right, I went there with my chip entitled self). read more