I was up in Frisco over the weekend, at the yearly Anarchist Bookfair, and I came back a bit pissed. There was this talk that I was looking forward to hearing, suggested by someone that wanted my opinion on the topic, when all of a sudden it was disrupted by some moralistic assholes that thought I shouldn’t hear what the woman was talking about. She had some critique of being vegetarian/vegan so three fools took it upon themselves to hit her with a cayenne pepper laced pie. That was the end of that session, as she spent the rest of her allotted time washing out her burning eyes in the restroom.
I’ve been trying to come up with a post idea to deal with this issue, something to denounce these 3 Vegan Nazis and their misguided tactics, but it hasn’t come to me yet. I wanted to say something to express my contempt towards all forms of Moral Fundamentalism, that ideology that denies our humanity and turns us all into mere characters, something that would also shame those in the crowd that cheered this assault. I can’t figure out a way to say it. Maybe I’m not cut out for opinionating.
Fuck it, I’ll just do an HR review instead. That’ll make both the Vegans and the Anti-Factory Farming authors angry! No pies please.
Despite that one stupid incident, the weekend was mostly fun and stimulating. (Maybe I’ll upload some clips of “anarchist humor” soon!) The ride back down was also exciting, in that nervous sort of way, with the car having a few technical issues. We managed to drive back to Los Angeles and get the car looked at by Jeff. So here I am walking towards the Gold Line when I see this guy with a big sign promising Desayunos for only $2.99, including HRs! I guess its a sign.
I already knew what I wanted and ordered right away but I kept the menu just to see what else they have to offer.
And then I waited. And waited. And at just the last second before I snapped into my usual mental cycle of wondering why Salvadorean restaurants take so damn long to bring you the food, I got my plate.
Here it is without flash. My new pocket camera sucks, I hate the way the photos turn out. That would be the Canon SD780, in case you want my opinion on one to avoid. The SD1000 took way better pictures. Err, when the lens worked and focused.
Yes, those are the HR’s to the left, the ones with the hint of sauce. I don’t think it was anything special but there wasn’t enough of it to really get a taste. Plus the overcooked rubbery eggs pretty much dominated this affair.
Let’s see if flash would be better. Haha, not really. And I already took a bite. Oddly one of the eggs was properly cooked while the other was way over-cooked. Kinda strange considering they were both joined together by the whites. The most insteresting aspect of their HR interpretation was certainly the sides. Fried bananas (yum!), crema, and a rice and bean mix that I could do without. It’s the kinda of dish that helps cure your hunger but that you secretly hope to never meet again.
It did come with a sort of “tortilla” but they were really thick pupusas without a filling. Tasty masa though.
Las Cazuelas  323.255.4719
5707 N. Figueroa St.
Highland Park, 90042
www.lascazuelas-la.com
Maybe I’ll eventually write about that pie incident, and maybe why I chose to no longer be a vegan. Yes, I have my reasons.
BONUS! BONUS! BONUS!
On my way to the train, I spot yet another awesome ALZA mural. This one even mentions “merchants & bums.” Instant classic!
Cayenne pepper laced pie in the face?! Not good at all. What kind of an asshole would do that? Your outrage is justified. It’s good that you were bummed. It speaks well of you.
yeah totaly!
what? How come no SF HR reviews? Just ‘cuz we’re anarchists doesn’t mean you have to dis’ our HR restaurants.
C’mon, you gotta give us a chance to meet you too, you have fans, ya know!
The tortilla is a Salvadoran tortilla and it’s thick because it’s usually made by hand.
The cayenne pepper pie incident sounds terrible. She has the right to speak her mind yea.
Like the way you dissed those vegan nazis by calling San Francisco, “Frisco.” They hate it when we do that.