10 July 2012

Yongin: Margarita

I know, I know.  Mexican food in Korea?  Have you ever even seen somebody from Mexico in Korea?  Me neither.  Yet this restaurant exists.  Like that time in Next Gen when a casino appeared on an uncharted planet that had a methane atmosphere of -291 degrees Celsius.  Who would have expected such a thing?  It's a miracle!*

Cafe Street-ish
Giheung-gu, Yongin-si, Gyounggi-do
South Korea

We humans love our routines.  AJ and Shelley go to Margarita every Saturday night, as they are also humans.  Let me tell you, AJ and Shelley would only visit a restaurant once a week if it were a really effing amazing restaurant.  They have high standards.  Rightly so.

My iced tea was kind of expensive - W6,000 ($5.26).  But it turned out to be rather large and delicious, so I guess I can forgive them.

You know what?  I got iced tea at virtually every restaurant I entered in Korea, and each glass tasted ten times more fantastic than your average American iced tea.  All peachy and sweet-but-not-too-sweet.

The first thing to arrive were the free chips and salsa.  Ahh, at Mexican joints; some things never change.  You see the white junk in with the salsa?  It's probably sour cream.  It's probably gross.  Eat around it, or tell your server to leave it out!  Easy peasy.  Salsa's good and spicy, and the corn chips were everything you could want from corn chips.  I doused them in salt.  Who doesn't.

The Fajita was magic, at W29,000 ($25.39).  Chicken is included in that price, so you can order it without.  It's meant for two people, but we split it between the three of us and had plenty of food - and one of us was AJ, who more than makes up for my habit of eating like a bird.  In my tortilla I crammed the fantastic crunchy-hot bell pepper and onion mix, guac, lettuce, salsa, tomato, rice, and refried beans.  The first bite was perfect.  So were all the bites.  It was just spicy enough, and man, was it delicious.

At this point I need to point out to you that because of the language barrier, we're not sure if there was lard in the beans or chicken broth in the rice.  Neither tasted suspicious, so Shelley and I ate them on good faith.  Plus it's hard to resist refried beans.  Like, really hard.

If I lived here, I'd eat at Margarita once a week too.  Maybe twice.  And also face the threat of shame to sneak into their dumpster in order to catch extra uneaten fajitas.

* Margarita being the miracle, not the casino.  Casinos are never miracles.

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