Let me just start by saying that I don't really know why I'm blogging about Charcoals. Nothing about this meal was extraordinary, or new or even featured a favorite food. I could've easily skipped this post altogether as if the meal hadn't happened, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about it that had to be said.
Any establishment that has steak in its name is going to attract my husband, the carnivore, so after driving by several times, we decided to try it. We quickly realized that it was simply a Hispanic (primarily Venezuelan) barbecue restaurant with all the predictable staples- fajitas, churrasco, tostones (plantain fritters), rice with black or red beans, among others. One pleasant little gift sitting at the table was a perfect chimichurri sauce, a must-have with beef, if you ask me.
A little voice inside told me that no matter how intriguing the Pio Quinto with vanilla custard dessert sounded, it would just be as ordinary as the rest of the meal, but I wouldn't listen. Not only was it ordinary, I didn't quite understand it. At the very least I expected a piece of proper rum cake with custard on the side or draped over it. What we got was a cup of pudding with some kind of soggy crumble drowned at the bottom. I should've listened to the little voice, except I don't like when it tells me to skip dessert.
So there you have it, the whole meal and nothing I couldn't put together with a grill in my own backyard. Even as I write the last few sentences, I struggle to find something of significance in the experience. The chimichurri, the yucca fries and the flavorful meat... there. Those are the elements that stand out for me. I suppose I'll characterize this meal the way my husband does his usually brilliant guitar improvisations- a whole lot of nothing.
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