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| - this is the first place i will call pretty that ive reviewed. its romantic even if you are just sitting across the street leaning on a fire hydrant (hopefully in the rain).
walk into this home thats been converted into a hopping little restaurant, aglow with christmas lights, christmas or not, and you might find your legs doing the bachata or something on their own. the music is great. theres a haze of light that smiles on each of the checkered tablecloths as your waitress passes you your status quo mojito or your guanabana juice, my personal fave.
try to speak if you can, after sinking your teeth into a rich, albeit oily, but nonetheless bear brown deep fried corn fritter. if you close your eyes and go with it, you can pretend its just a big kernel of popped corn and order more like its free refills at the movies. after that turn to your left towards the kitchen and say as meanly as you can under your breath, "uno camarones al ajillo, rapido! rapido!" and then spit on the floor. (for effect man, cmon, go with, go with). when that arrives youll find that youll be drinking shrimp - it looks like a shrimp, it tastes and feels like a shrimp, but that garlicky wine covered pink little letter c can be used to wash all the other food down in between orders of guanabana juices.
now before you pull out your guns and shoot up the place, lift up your sombrero, stroke your moustache, and say, "PAPA RELLENA NUMERO UNO, FLACCA!!", and watch as a little bomb of flavour comes wrapped in a dynamite ball of a golden potato that you might have to claim as your own as there is only one on each plate. inside is a steaming treasure of lean ground beef, garlic, onion, red and green peppers thatll blow your mind.
hows does all that sound. word.
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