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| - Sometimes a well-planned coincidence is just what you need. Yes, I realize that the word planned coincidence is an oxymoron, an oxymoron like Casa Don Juan. First of all, the decor looks a little too festive and forcefully Mexican. Any Mexican joint with that many framed photos of Frida, well, has something to prove. Second of all, I ended up there as a result of an odd calculation with a close girlfriend who lives across town, as it so happens, Casa Don Juan seems the exact middle point of distance for us. With such contrived factors in play, I expected the food to disappoint. What a pleasant surprise Don Juan was!
The frigid January evening in the Vegas dessert is off to a fun start with really good live Mariachi music, the soft and painfully romantic kind of Mariachi that makes any woman wish she was living life with a South-of-the-Border lover, or maybe just with Mariachi music as the soundtrack.
A request for black beans (a blessing and curse from P90X nutrition plan) ends up with a waiter's "no" response, accompanied by the "this is authentic Mexican, we don't do healthy" glance. However, he was nice enough to give me whole beans before they refry them in lard. Beans were good, rice was good, tortilla was warm, and good. But the mole sauce on the chicken was, well, a perfect reminder of my college crush on Mexican culture. Flavorful spices and a hint of chocolate left heat on my tongue to be remembered.
So now I'm listening to La Paloma Negra by Lila Downs for the rest of the evening, the things that good mole will do to you!
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