Viva Zapatas

We had or first mexican food experience last night. We found a little place called Viva Zapatas along a popular stretch of the Williamstown waterfront. We went in as soon as we spotted it, despite walking past the Greek place, the creperie, and a handful of places that offered their best variations of rissottos. I was immediately impressed by the overuse of Corona bottles in the decor and the neon cactus placed above the margarita bar. Megan set her expectations very low. My standard of expectations was set MUCH lower when I visited "South of the Border" in New Zealand (raising many "south of WHAT border" questions when the only thing south of us was Antarctica). On this adventure we found ourselves in a place decorated with posters of the Boston Marathon and Jazz Fest in New Orleans. The food lived up to being nothing representative of Mexico. Fortunately Viva Zapatas did much better. It was no Las Barcas. No Majares. Hell, it wasn't even Uncle Julio's. But the food was good and gave us a little taste of home. Minus the $3.30 bowl of chips that we passed on. I slooooowly sipped my precious Diet Coke, and we didn't dare ask for guacamole.

(Then we stopped for ice cream/ gelatto on the way back to the car. All is right in the world.)