Showing posts with label food in Mexico. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food in Mexico. Show all posts

Monday, January 28, 2008

Cucina de Jorges in Bucerias

Click to enlargeTable setting at Jorge's. Note the ashtray.

As I mentioned previously, a highlight of our Bucerias trips to is breakfast at Jorge's. This is the fourth trip and every time, we usually stop at Jorges for breakfast. When the six children have been with us, they always ordered french toast, "chocomilk," jugo de naranja and hamburgers. We old geezers order one of Jorge's breakfasts: huevos con jamon with beans, salsa, and fresh tortillas, along with a glass of jugo de naranja. Jorge has a dozen variations on fried or scrambled eggs: divorciados (two eggs, one in a pool of red salsa, the other in a salsa verde); huevos con jamon; hueves verde (scrambled eggs with chopped green chili); sincronizadas (eggs, jamon and manchego cheese in a layer, sitting in a pool of his delicious salsa rojo, with the usual refritos, tortillas, and a slice of fresh avocado). The jugo de naranja is fantastic--a tall mug of cold, fresh orange juice.

Jorge's plays host to locals, and a few gringos, and best of all, various police. There are about four different brands of cops here and most of them seem to eat breakfast at Jorge's. Yesterday, we saw three cops eat breakfast and as they were eating, the cooks were frantically (not really never see anything I'd call frantic in Mexico). . .let's say they were steadily filling dozens of Styrofoam containers with eggs, beans, and tortillas. I almost asked, but we had to assume they were picking up breakfast for the prisoners.

A State of Nayarit police truck--click to enlarge

A couple of different times, we have seen a pickup pull up out front, with five cops in the pickup bed with machine guns raised and everyone got out, stretched, and ambled in to Jorge's. This reminds me of one of my favorite William Burroughs passages. "A truck pulls up and the cops of the world charge out."

Thinking about the police truck, I am reminded that there are not a lot of seat belts in Mexico, and that fact always hit home when you grab a cab to or from the airport--as you race down the chaotic freeway you become well aware of the fact that no one in the car is buckled in.

Keelin waiting for breakfast

Senor Daveed awaits his sincronizados

Jorge's sign, created by a local mosaic artist