Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Lincoln Blvd and Rose

I must have passed by this place a million times and never went in. This was my chance! We went to Casablanca as a big group, because we were celebrating Owen and Owen's grandma's birthday. Parking was easy enough, as we had gotten there early. Inside was a huge collection of memorabilia, dusty fading posters and pictures, and all kinds of things in the state of molding all over the walls. Angry hostess at the front gave us all the weary eye, and indifferently let us stand awkardly next to the entrance/bar until enough people showed up. I was seated next to a creepy almost too real lifesize statue of Humphrey Bogart dressed as Sam from the movie, and he hauntingly glared at me all night.

The fresh tortillas were piping hot as we put them on our plates. They were very good, with a douse of their salsa verde embedded with feta cheese cubes. I was almost full to bursting just eating these. They were very similar to Pacos Taco's homemade tortillas - actually almost identical.

The waiters were, for the most part, were very on the ball and polite. Owen got a few margaritas before dinner and was sorry to find them to be super watered down. Our entrees came after a bit of wait, because of the magnitude of our party.
This was my Shrimp Fajitas Plate. It was...just okay. I expected one of those sizzling platters like I've seen at most places, but was surprised to see my veggies and shrimp - in a not so good -almost florescent orange colored oily substance - mingling with my rice and beans and guacamole. The shrimps were a good size, but the oily yuck sauce killed it. The veggies were way overcooked, but still edible had it not been for the oil. The rice was good, flavored slightly by butter I think. It was my favorite thing on the plate. Black beans were okay. Guacamole was decent.

I didn't HATE (hate is reserved for places like Dussini) this place but I didn't love it either. I think for a more intimate group, it would have been perfect, but for a big group of 20, it was not right. I didn't eat my leftovers, if that's any indication of something that's worth reheating and eating again. You know what I mean...when you're looking in the fridge, glancing at a styrofoam take out container, with the contents of the uneaten parts of last night's dinner, and don't think I want this...that was the feeling.

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