Margarita Madness

16 May

Tuesday morning, I grabbed breakfast as I literally ran out the door (notice Phooey’s leash in hand) and spilled way too much salt on my Easter leftover.  I am sure my neighbors confirmed their suspicions that I am, in phact, a phreak, as I ran to my car (with my alien dog in tow) and stopped to photograph an egg.

I heated up some of the leftover noodles from the night before and that was lunch.  No more exciting the next morning, but no worse.  I dumped the rest.

I met a phriend I hadn’t seen in a very long time at Rio Grill for dinner.  I’d been looking forward to experiencing Chef Cy’s new menu since the event I attended (but never managed to get myself inside for) in April.

We started the evening off right with Blood Orange Margaritas… never you mind about how many were eventually consumed that evening.  Never you mind.

Off the small bites menu, we opted for the Smoked Pork Belly, which seemed appropriate because of the raisins incorporated into the dish. (The phirst week of May is National Raisin Week, PH.Y.I.  and yes, I used that as justification just now.)

Also, it was pork belly… and one should never refuse pork belly- it’s like looking a gift horse in the mouth (which, now that I think about it, even if the horse is a gift, those things are darn expensive to keep, so maybe you SHOULD be looking it in the mouth.  I mean, why is the person giving it away in the phirst place?)

Quite possibly God’s gift to me, the Blistered Chiles (also off the small bites menu) were perfection on a plate.  Salt on top of salt, spice on top of spice, crispy, buttery and phabulous.

Mark my words, phollowers, you’re going to be seeing a lot of these this year.

A margarita (or two) later, and we decided to get more substantial phood.  The Buffalo Carpaccio caught my eye on the appetizer menu, and it certainly did not disappoint.

The Empanada appetizer pheatured tri tip and Hatch New Mexico chiles, and I quickly phorgot the painful lessons learned at Horseman’s Haven in Santa Fe in March and said yes to them.

They weren’t spicy, so my phears were in vain.  What does this mean, you ask?  My spice ego is on the rise.  Beware!

The accoutrements would normally have been served on the empanadas, but due to my phood allergies, they put them on the side so my culinary companion could enjoy.  They would probably have been more exciting had I consumed them as Chef intended.

We went big another margarita (or two) later and split the Duck Breast with squash chilaquiles, mole rojo and duck confit tamale.  Phan-phreaking-tastic.

I might consider consuming phewer margaritas on my next visit, but I plan to make that return visit very soon.

Nice work to the Rio crew on the new menu.  A+

Oh, and I hear those Blood Orange Margaritas aren’t half bad either…

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2 Responses to “Margarita Madness”

  1. Erika May 16, 2011 at 9:18 am #

    2 Phollowers have to ask: how does one aphord to eat out eighty seven times per week? Please come re-do our phinances – we pheel too poor to eat out more than once or twice per week.

    • phabulousness May 16, 2011 at 9:21 am #

      Excellent question… I am never home, so my utilities are quite cheap! 🙂

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