Crissy, we did it! We made it to San Antonio, and ate at Cascabels! I have been hearing about this place for two damn years, so you’d better believe I was going to go try their food. If I had come to San Antonio and NOT gone to Cascabels or Blanco Cafe, I think I would have been scared to go back to San Diego and face the wrath of the residents of casa Ringo. So on our first evening in SA, Max, Balta, and I trooped into Cascabels after a long meander through downtown San Antonio, a stroll along the Riverwalk, and a TOTALLY amazing encounter with John and Nataly at the Alamo! Hey guys! Who would have thought…we had just seen them like three days ago in Phoenix, and then all of a sudden they popped up at the Alamo. Teachers, I tell you.

But I digress. Cascabels is south of downtown San Antonio, tucked into a small lot with a lovely patio which reminded Max and Balta very much of Mexican beach style. Small tables covered with palm palapitas lined one wall, while we sat in the middle at a pretty painted wrought iron table. The bugs mostly left us alone, although between the bites from the SA skeeters and the lashings from the EP cacti, Texas definitely left its mark on me. We were the only diners there; it was late on a Tuesday evening so perhaps we did not arrive at the most happening time. But the ladies working at the restaurant were very gracious, and even came out and chatted with us for a while at the end. The owners of the restaurant, who are originally from Piedras Negras, have another location north of the city somewhere off the 281; it’s called Picadillo and serves more Tex-Mex style food. But Cascabels, as we were told, specializes in Authentic Mexican Food.

We had a sort of multi-regional dinner: Balta ordered the cochinita pibil

(achiote in the house! yucatan presente!), Max (of course) opted for the birria, and I had the famous chicken enchiladas with salsa verde that Crissy will not shut up about. And I mean that in the most loving way! Because she was right. They were very, very good. The chicken was seasoned enough so that you could taste tasty chicken inside the enchiladas, the sauce was nicely spiced and I even ate the ensalada de nopales that came with it! I know! Y’all know how I feel about ensalada de nopales…like eating pickled slugs.

And yet, it was irresistible. The birria was also excellent; Max was highly opposed to sharing even a bite so we could try, but he finally acquiesced. Balta was much nicer about letting me try his cochinita; it was not quite Oxkutzcabeño but the restaurant did a nice job with it.

One of the yummiest parts of the meal, actually, was the little copita of soup that they served as an antojito while we waited for our dinners. It was sort of a sopa de fideo with little bits of queso fresco in it…absolutely delicious with a big dollop of salsa

roja!

And I should mention that the inside of the restaurant was covered with graffiti — sort of a communal word mural. I didn’t actually spend much time inside but here is a picture so you can get an idea.

The next couple of days we spent hanging out with Balta and brother Andres and Andres and Linka’s family. Muchísimas gracias to the broders Thompson for showing us such a good time, consintiendonos tanto, and showing us their San Antonio lives. We went to Canyon Lake and made carne asada, we had dinner at Andres and Linka’s house and met their beautiful daughters (why we have no pictures of this is a total mystery), and we spent a very productive day at the central library in San Antonio. It’s a graceful city with easygoing people and  much more Mexicanity than I imagined. But, I have to admit, San Diego (and El Comal, naturally!!!) still have my heart…