Oh, how summer is racing by. Racing like the scads of white cloud that hurry across the sky as if chased by some invisible force. Racing away like the fleeting days of summer that, perhaps a month from now, will have given way to frost-tinged nights and orange leaves.
But for now, the night is soft and sultry, touched only by heat and haze, and characterized by delirious, delicious darkness that deigns to allow the existence of anthropogenic light.
These are the nights to walk the city streets, just to see what happens. On one such night, I discovered Jimmy Poblano's Southwest Cantina, right next to the Le Marchand Mansion (which is wrapped in the throes of cosmetic surgery). Here, passers-by trickle in and out, and a garland of chili-shaped lights adds a cheeky touch of whimsy.
Prickly Pear Lemonade eases through the evening's heat with a zesty chill and perky hint of subtle rose-hued fruits. Indeed, this quenching bevvy may well set the bar for pink lemonade and its various permutations.
A taco trio features one each of (right to left) Chicken Adovado, Chile Verde Pork, and Machaca Beef. Chicken seduces with tender meat and lascivious undertones of red chilies and citrus. Chile Verde Pork showcases its eponymous spice with aplomb; hints of beer and a touch of sweetness seal the deal. Finally, Machaca beef sings and sighs with a mole-reminiscent bouquet of coffee and caramelized spices. A nifty tomato salsa and a mealy glob of refried beans complete this picture.
The poignant impermanence of summer nights all but sharpens one's appreciation of late-hours street food. It behooves one to enjoy it now before suddenly, last summer.