In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that Casey and I split a pitcher of top-shelf margaritas before dinner, so if I’m a little generous about the food, forgive me. Also, for future reference, I am not the person you want to split a pitcher of margaritas with, unless you want to dine with a silly girl who giggles—not laughs, mind you, giggles—at everything you say until the check arrives.
The last time Casey and I came to Ninfa’s we also split a pitcher of margaritas. I almost ordered enchiladas verdes before the BBQ stuffed quail caught my eye. I ordered it and the waitress asked, “Is that really what you want, or do you want it the traditional way?” When a waiter makes a suggestion, I generally listen, so I let her go to the kitchen and work her off-menu magic. What came to the table was delicious: split, herb-rubbed grilled quail. It was fantastic. But I still wanted to know what their enchiladas verdes were like.
I’m used to chicken enchiladas verdes, but Ninfa’s serves a pork version, topped with fresh avocado and a dollop of sour cream. The texture was similar to carnitas. (In fact, it may have been carnitas.) I prefer thicker meat in my enchiladas, like fajitas, though I have to admit I had no problem with the way the pork tasted. Or with wolfing down the entire middle of my plate. I was too full to try the rice or the beans. I did not do a very good job as a food blogger on this particular occasion.
We got dessert, of course. Casey went with the flan. I had a bite and determined that it was probably the best flan I’ve ever had. Of course, I still don’t like flan. I opted for the sopapillas, which, according to their menu, are served with hibiscus syrup. That sounds so much lovelier than honey, but I’m afraid my tequila-laced tongue was too far gone to tell the difference.