Cheripan

For the ultimate in pretention, you certainly have consulted the right person. Over the years (the years of NOT blogging about anything...), the emeffing Professor has visited many a pretentious eatery for the purpose of ...touting her own awesomeness the world over. Why, I have eaten in a Mexican restaurant in Pristina, Kosovo. I have eaten Italian cuisine in Bolivia. I have consumed American food in Texas. But the most overwhelmingly better than you sensation I've ever felt washed over me while dining at Cheripan, the Argentinian restaurant in Tijuana, Mexico, and the self-appointed Revolucion de Sabor.

While wandering around my office last Thursday, (my job is better than your job; i get paid to wander) I waited in breathless anticipation of ANYONE asking me what I was doing that night, or why I had that breathless anticipatory look on my face, or why I was wandering around the office like that. Once asked, or once I felt that the question was forming itself in the minds of the person who would surely have asked had I given them enough time, I would casually flip my hair and reply nonchalantly, "I think I'm just gonna cruise across the border and hit up a restaurant there. I feel practically exhausted with all the options in this country. But the exhaustion could be due to all this wandering around the office. I am simply beat."

Despite a little mishap with forgetting my passport (the Professor is charmingly disorganized...) and having to hit up the county clerk for a copy of my birth certificate final-hour-style instead, the whole "cruise across the border" thing went off without a hitch.

This was actually our second trip to Cheripan, and both times were good for the hunger, good for the sobriety, good for the soul (in that it completely eradicated all three). This second trip was special in double the standard amount of ways: 1. La Agente Kickass brought her sister, the future leader of the New Order. and 2. we finished before 11, meaning we had sufficient time to visit the sister restaurant of Cheripan, Argelato, for dessert.

The dinner was productive as we all were assigned (or called dibs on) our positions within the New Order. I am not sure how quickly impending the next Great Depression actually is, but better safe than sorry, I occasionally say. I called dibs on New Order poet. I will specialize in haiku, and I will avoid all things that have to do with food harvesting, animal husbandry, food preparation, laundry, shelter construction, and handiwork. Luckily, I possess this almost supernatural restaurant review ability, so people will practically be begging me to consume their food regardless of my assistance in its creation. I will oblige with a descriptive rhyme or two referencing its quality. Man, the Depression is gonna rawk!

Argelato was a treat. David, partial owner/founder of both restaurants called ahead for us, so we kicked it like VIP's and comimos the shit out of some fiiiiine gelatos. I had some avellana worth rhyming for; our intrepid leader Chelsea had some dulce de leche that was so sweet even her future children could taste it; La Agente Kickass got some mango gelato (the last of its kind before she is forced to enjoy flan); and I can't remember what Christie (leader of the New Order Foreign Service...was that confidential?) ordered, but it surely was a flavor to savor (see how naturally these rhymes just come? It's a gift. I hardly have any control over it).

Thesis Statement: There will come a time when only the strong will survive. Flan-haters will be forced to lead a tribe of flan-eaters through a perilous wilderness where trash will necessarily become treasure. Spiderwebs will be converted to dryer sheets (by someone way craftier than I am, obviously), and some people, those unprepared with Victory Gardens, won't even HAVE fabric softening dryer sheets. These will be truly testing times. So in the meantime, traveling across the border for a tender flank steak and some ice cream seems totally reasonable. Live it up while you can, folks.

Evidentiary support: I've already called dibs on your dryer sheet rations.

Look how happy we all are pre-Depression! Laughin' it up in our properly laundered clothing

Despues de comer unos sandwiches vegetarianos, some lomipan, y uno o dos martinis, aparecimos poco mas gorditas.

La Agente Kickass takes full advantage of the recently redesigned upper patio.