Translation for 140 languages by ALS
Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowline.
Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sail.
Explore. Dream. Discover
.
---Mark Twain

12/29/09

OBJECTIVE: Accomplished (Christmas dinner)

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On Christmas Eve I wrote about still needing to finalize plans for Christmas Day. Well, I met that short-term goal and had a pleasant, albeit mildly solitary, holiday. After a wonderful meal I visited with a fellow expatriate friend for coffee and cake. Tres leches cake is milky moist and delicious!

After reviewing the holiday menus of a few restaurants---most advertised 'Christmas Eve' versus Christmas Day specials; but the same prix fixe carried over to the actual Day---I settled on two based on budget and curiosity. 


I was curious to dine at Kaiser Maximilian. It's a poshly attired restaurant with a decidedly European flair in, both, food selection and presentation.  The three course selection I preferred---main entree: Turkey medallions stuffed with pine nuts, dried fruits, sweet potato puree---was $425mxp.

I had the money but decided in favor of budget and, instead, ate at Back Alley Steakhouse in the late afternoon before the dinner crowd arrived. Their Christmas dinner cost $200mxp with a choice betwixt filet mignon cooked with red wine sauce and mushrooms or pork tenderloin slices with a pineapple and orange sauce. I chose the filet mignon.

I've eaten here before and the chef is wonderful. The meat, medium rare, was delicious and, to my surprise, ringed with a strip of tasty maple bacon. (The waiter should have mentioned this as one might have an aversion to pork and would be totally in the right in not paying for the plate.)

My only complaint with Back Alley is the obnoxious friendliness of the staff. Mexican waiters in non-Mexican businesses behave with a sense of familiarity, sometimes aggressively, that gets on my nerves. The waiter at Back Alley was chatty and inquisitive, not that he really gave a damn about where I was born or my name. In the spirit of Christmas and fear of food poisoning I didn't tell him to shut the fuck up; but will let the owner know the next time that I'm there to eat, not shake hands or converse with the waiters.

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