|What I wore: Shoes, Keds. Jeans, Gap. Shirt, Old Navy (it's Ryan's...because sometimes my closet just|
doesn't seem expansive enough). Necklace, Forever 21.
This weekend I did a photo session with a sweet (and very leaky, I might add) baby,
watched 25983 hours of Suits and went to a Superbowl party, but
ALL OF THAT PALES IN COMPARISON TO WHAT I DID SUNDAY NIGHT.
We found it. Queso dip. In California.
You may recall that California's lack of queso dip
(a melty, gooey, delectable white cheese dip found in virtually
every single Mexican restaurant all across the good ol' Midwest)
was perhaps the greatest flaw I could find with our new home when we moved last January.
For awhile, we went from one Mexican joint to the next desperately seeking our
beloved queso dip but we were unsuccessful everywhere we went.
And no one seemed to know what the heck we were talking about.
Finally, we accepted the fact that West coast Mexican food was just different.
A land without queso.
But then, months after we'd given up the search, Ryan heard one of his coworkers
mention an appetizer she'd ordered at a Mexican restaurant in El Segundo.
He was skeptical, but he grilled her with questions about the color, consistency and
ingredients in said dip (queso dip is serious business!) and all signs seemed to point to
what we thought was impossible. So, we had to investigate ourselves.
And my ravenous belly after the Superbowl on Sunday
(vegetarians always lose when meat eaters plan the party menu) gave us
the perfect excuse to stop at Cozymel's on our way home.
Lo and behold, it was queso dip! The real deal.
I could have cried tears of sweet joy (but that would have been super awkward
in the middle of the restaurant). Now that we've finally found the queso,
California just needs to show us where they're hiding the frozen custard
and this will officially be the greatest place of all time.